When the historical Jesus was crucified, none of his followers would've believed that the literal son of God had just died on the cross. Jesus himself wouldn't have believed this either. Being devout Jews, they all believed that there was only one God, Yahweh, and the notion that Jesus was a second God co-equal to Yahweh was alien to them. What his followers most likely did believe is that their hoped-for messiah had just died on the cross. And for them, that called into question whether Jesus had even been the messiah. The messiah was not supposed to die! He was supposed to help God destroy all of Israel’s enemies and usher in a new kingdom over which the messiah would rule and where God's faithful would live a paradisal existence till the end of time. But any doubt about Jesus being the messiah abruptly ended for his followers when three days after his crucifixion the news began to circulate that he had risen from the dead. It is then that the idea that Jesus was indeed the messiah and, moreover, the literal Son of God, co-equal to the Father, slowly began to develop. This, however, took centuries.
The first gospel to be written about the life of Jesus is the gospel of Mark. In Mark's gospel, Jesus is portrait, pretty much throughout, as being fully human, a man of flesh-and-blood. If the Jesus of Mark was indeed fully human, how would he have experienced his baptism, the days spent in the wilderness, the exorcisms, the miracles, the teachings, the conflicts, and the dying on the cross? That’s what I want to imagine in this story of Jesus. Of course, if Jesus was fully human, he had powers few other humans in the Bible possessed. But then some did. Think of Elijah and Elisha, for example. They too, with God’s help, healed the sick, raised the dead, multiplied bread to feed the multitude, controlled nature, and more. So when you see Jesus doing miraculous deeds in this story, don't say "See! No human could ever have done that." In fact, in the Bible, humans, with the help of God, actually could do some pretty miraculous things.
Let’s imagine Jesus a few hours before the opening of gospel of Mark. For many days he’s been walking from Nazareth toward Bethany beyond the Jordan. A few weeks ago, he heard the startling news that a new prophet had appeared in the Judean wilderness proclaiming that God was about to end this world in which his chosen people had suffered so much for so long at the hands of foreign occupiers. John was warning faithful sinners of Israel that they should immediately repent and be baptized by him so that when the end came, they’d be ready to be transitioned into God's new kingdom.
When Jesus first heard the news, his heart leaped for joy. Could this startling news really be true? For 400 years, no new prophet of the God of Israel had spoken. The last prophet to do so was Malachi, and Jesus recited to himself what Malachi had said about the coming end: "See, the day is coming, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble; the day that comes shall burn them up, says the Lord of hosts, so that it will leave them neither root nor branch. But for you who revere my name the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings. You shall go out leaping like calves from the stall. And you shall tread down the wicked, for they will be ashes under the soles of your feet, on the day when I act, says the Lord of hosts.
And was this day now about to come? Like most followers of the God of Israel, Jesus had grown up with stories in Scriptures that talked about the present age and the coming age. In the present age, fallen angels ‒ demons really ‒ had come down from heaven and had corrupted the world God had created. And when God saw the evil that grew out of the people's interaction with the fallen angels and the great suffering that resulted, rather than stop it, he’d allowed it to continue as a test to see who would choose for him and who would choose for evil. But now, according to the news from Bethany Beyond the Jordan, the time of the test was almost fulfilled. God was nearly ready end the present age and destroy ever bit of evil in it, while at the same time ushering in a new age with a new kingdom where those who had remain faithful to his commandments would live without pain or suffering till the end of time.
Jesus had also heard John had said that God was sending someone else ‒ someone so powerful that John himself wasn’t worthy to stoop down and untie the strap of his sandals. And this one, John had said, would baptize not with water, as he had been doing, but with the Holy Spirit. Jesus had to admit he didn’t quite know what that meant ‒ to baptize with the Holy Spirit. And who did John mean by “the one more powerful”? The heavenly Son of Man? Elijah returned? The long‑awaited messiah?
The more Jesus pondered what John had reportedly said, the more exhilarated he became. Could it really be that God was about to put an end to this present age of suffering for Israel, crush all of its enemies, and welcome all of his faithful children into his new kingdom. The thought made concentrating on his work and daily chores nearly impossible. In the evenings, he began to separate himself from family and friends just to daydream about what that moment would look like when it came. And very quickly, he began to realize he couldn't remain in Nazareth any longer. He needed to go to Bethany Beyond the Jordan and help John do God’s work ‒ warning the suffering souls of Israel about the imminent end and how to prepare for it. And yes, he was awareness there was some danger in attaching himself to John's movement. The Romans didn’t look kindly on anyone pronouncing that their reign was just about over and that a new kingdom was about to replace them. heavenly knew such utterances would be interpreted as sedition, and the Romans punished sedition with swift arrest and execution. But John was doing his work in the wilderness, far enough away from seats of authority to be relatively safe. And besides, if John was right, God’s new kingdom could come any day, and when it did, the Romans would no longer be arresting or killing anyone.
And so Jesus made up his mind to go to Bethany Beyond the Jordan to see and hear John for himself. And if John proved to be the holy prophet all the talk had suggested, he would try to stay there with him and become one of his disciples. And then maybe he could ask John to explain what baptizing by the Holy Spirit meant and who the one more powerful than he was whom he was expecting to come soon. Jesus was ready to give up everything for that ‒ his home, his family and friends, his work, even his life if necessary ‒ to work beside John and prepare the faithful sinners for the moment when God would act and intervene in history.
He's almost at John’s baptism site now, unable to control his excitement. Soon he hears the crowd, their voices rising and falling, their bodies splashing in the river. And now he sees them, men and women with faces marked by hardship. They've come to John here in the wilderness to heed his warning: to repent of their sins and to let themselves be counted among those who will stand with the God of Israel before it is too late.
These are people that he knows, people like his neighbors, who struggle every day to survive under the heavy hand of foreign occupation, who daily eke out a living at the bottom of society in the land that God had promised them, but where now they’re just one bad drought, one failed harvest away from losing everything. Jesus feels their suffering because it's the same suffering he's seen in Nazareth and in every other Galilean village he's labored in throughout the years. It’s suffering he's felt himself. And as he looks upon these people, he prays that God and the one more powerful who’s coming will soon put an end to this unbearable injustice that has spread all over the land of Israel.
And then he sees John, standing waist deep in an inlet of the Jordan river in the late morning sun. He looks every bit the prophet Jesus had expected: wild, scruffy, and with eyes that burn with conviction as he calls penitents to repent. Between each baptism, he hears John call out:
"Hear, O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord alone..."
"Obey the commandments, always..."
"Repent and be ready for when the new kingdom arrives..."
"Love one another all the days of your life..."
"Care for the poor among you, the widows, the orphans..."
Hearing John’ words, he knows he’s hearing the words of a true prophet. John’s voice is the first in a dozen generations to call Israel back to its God. And his message couldn't be clearer: the present age of evil is about to end and the age of God’s justice is about to begin. Repent now to be included in God's new kingdom. That was always God’s promise, and Jesus has come here in the hope of seeing that promise fulfilled.
Two men appproach him who appear to be John's disciples. Following their instructions, he removes his belt, his shoulder bag, his cloak, and his sandals. And when directed, he wades into the river to stand behind those next to be baptized. He's like a child, giddy with happiness, as he watches John's disciples go about their work. What they are doing, he hopes to be doing soon himself.
As he waits his turn, he asks God for forgiveness for anything he may unknowingly have done to stray from his commandments. And he thanks God that he's led him here to be in the presence of his new prophet.
And then it’s his turn to be baptized. He wades towards John. He looks in John's eyes and is touched by the goodness that emanates from them.
He watches John put one hand on his shoulder and the other hand on his head. Then he feels John gently pushing his upper body under the water. And after a few seconds, he feels John's strong hand slowly pulling him up again.
And just as his face is coming up out of the water, he gasps as his heart is seized with absolute terror.
From behind John's head, he sees the blue dome of the sky beginning to tear open into a black fissure as wide as his eyes can see. And simultaneously, he hears a tumultuous cracking and clattering as if a mountain has broken apart somewhere nearby and has shattered into a million rocky pieces, and he cries out in distress, "Eloi, Eloi!"
Has he come too Bethany Beyond the Jordan too late? Is the present age about to end before he's even had a chance to help John baptize a single soul? But how can that be? At the end, the sun is supposed be darkened and the moon will no longer give its light, and the stars are supposed to fall from heaven, and the powers in the heavens are supposed to be shaken. And that's not what he's seeing. So what is this?
Awestruck, he gapes at the fractured chasm above him exposing the watery darkness that was meant to separate the holy world of God from the evil world of man. The dark water, emblazoned with flickering golden light, is roiling like a stormy sea, threatening to come crashing down on the world.
He braces himself, paralyzed with fear, anticipating that the waters that God had separated on the second day of creation are about to reunite in a cataclysmic deluge worse than Noah's flood. But No! That can't be how it ends! God had promised no more floods, and God is always true to his word.
And indeed, as he continues to stare up at the fissure, there's no sign of the roiling water beginning to come crashing down.
And there's no sign of the Son of Man coming down or even clouds of glory. So this can't be the judgment day. But what is that that he sees in the watery fissure? It's something ethereal fluttering down ‒ so softly, so peacefully ‒ like a dove ‒ and it's descending on him.
Puzzled, he strokes his wet hair and regards his hands dripping with water.
But before he can race through his knowledge of Scriptures to search for an answer, he hears a voice that sounds like rumbling thunder, call down from the fissured dome:
“You are my son,
the beloved;
with you I am well pleased.”
And then to his wonderment, he sees the fissure in the dome slowly close and the sky return to heavenly blue.
Openmouthed, he continues to stare at where the sound of the voice had come from. Was that the voice of God? Who else's voice could it have been?
Trembling, he mumbles the words he heard come down, repeated as questions.
“You are my Son?
the beloved?
with you I am well pleased?”
And he instantly knows from Scriptures what these words mean. "You are my son!" Those are the words used to anoint God’s chosen one, the messiah! God has just announced to the world that his messiah is here. And this is God's signal not that the end of the present age has arrived, but that the end of the present age is about to begin.
And in joy and wild expectation, he turns round and round in the water, rapidly scanning all the faces around him. Where is he? Where is the messiah who will help God usher in the new kingdom? He desperately wants to lay his eyes on the anointed one and offer himself up to help him in any way can.
But to his dismay, he sees no one who looks regal like a messiah, valiant like a messiah, holy like a messiah. He sees only the poor penitents who were here before. And John. And his disciples. No newcomer, no one who stands out in the crowd, other than perhaps John, himself.
Certain that the messiah is here, he scans each face again. But again, he sees no one who looks as if he could be the messiah. He is rattled. How could this be? The voice unequivocally spoke to the messiah.
Had John been wrong about himself then? Had God pronounced John his chosen one after all?
He desperately tries to catch John's eye to see if perhaps John has suddenly been transfigured into the figure of the messiah. But John has turned away from him and is baptizing another penitent, seemingly unaware that something extraordinary has just happened.
And then it strikes him! Why hadn't this struck him immediately? Not a single soul in Bethany Beyond the Jordan seems to have experienced what he just experienced. There's no sign of panic anywhere, no sign of fear, no sign of wonder or joy or astonishment. Everyone's going about their business as usual as if nothing has just happened, as if God had not just signaled that the messiah had arrived and that the end of Israel's suffering was near. And that could only mean one thing: only he had seen the vision, only he had heard the words, and therefore the voice had only spoken to him. And as that thought sinks in, he feels a deep fright course through his entire body.
This can't be. How could God just have pronounced him the messiah? And the sense of joy he had momentarily felt at hearing that messiah had arrive turns to deep terror again. He is no king, he is no a warrior. He's never even held a sword. How can he defeat Israel's enemies when he can hardly defend myself? And how will he persuade all the faithful of Israel to come back to their God before it is too late? He's never spoken publicly. What will he says? What will his message be? And who would even listen to him, an unknown? And unlike the prophets of old, he has none of the special powers with which he could try to convince people. He can't call down fire or part the waters. So how can he possibly do what the messiah is supposed to do? He can't! And he's heartsick at the thought that he can only fail at what God has called him to do.
No, this cannot be. Why did God decide to choose him, an ordinary builder from Nazareth, for this colossal task instead of a powerful king? If God had asked him to help build or repair a wall, a road, a house, a city even, he could've done it. But he can't help fix this broken world! Only a real messiah could.
He feels his body go slack, his mind go numb. He hears one of John's disciples call out. Jesus looks up at him, nonplussed. He's being told come out of the water, to make way for others. Apparently, he's blocking penitents from being baptized.
He slowly begins to wade to the bank of the inlet, his legs wobbly, his head reeling. He struggles to get where his belongings lie in the sand. He picks them up and walks in a daze to a secluded grove of willows a little further downstream. Half shaded from the sun, he slumps down on a rock and stares out in front of himself at nothing in particular, his mind grasping for meaning but finding none.
Without thinking about what he's doing, he begins to tie on one of his sandals. Perhaps he misunderstood the words. Perhaps, he's gone mad. Is what he thought he saw and heard even real? It just can't be. He must've had a waking nightmare. He slept so little on his journey from Nazareth to here; it has worn him out. And this is the result – a cracked mind. How can he be the messiah? To believe that would not only be sinful, the epitome of haughtiness and pride; but he doesn't have the wherewithal. How can he suddenly be pronounced the messiah, just like that, without any prior hint or warning? When he stood in front of John to be baptized, John gave no hint of recognition that he knew him. And shouldn't John have known if John knew he was coming?
He hears John continue to call out to the penitents. "Hear, O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord alone..."
But if the vision and the voice were not a product of cracked mind, what then? There was only one other possibility. They'd be the workings of the great deceiver, Satan. Had Satan just tried to tempt him into believing that he was the one more powerful than John? How absurd! No thought like that had ever crossed his mind. So how could his imagination or Satan be the cause of this? Simple! Neither imagination nor Satan needs truth to build a lie.
He's near tears. He can't understand why this had to happen? He notices that some people are pointing at him. Others are staring. He can't think straight. John's booming voice is making that impossible. He needs to get away from here, needs to get away from people. He needs to be alone so he can pray for insight and wisdom. He needs God to speak again and to make it abundantly clear that it was indeed he who was speaking and not his imagination or Satan.
He finishes tying on his other sandal. He fastens his belt around his tunic. Since it's already hot, he quickly folds his cloak and positions it on his shoulders behind his head. Then he tucks the two ends of his folded-up cloak hanging by his sides under his belt. Slinging his bag over his left shoulder, he starts walking slowly away from Bethany Beyond the Jordan on a trail that leads downriver. But he soon realizes it's not wise to stay on this trail. He may run into shepherds, fisherman, traders on the move, Herodian soldiers on patrol, and he's not in any state to deal with anybody, certainly not a Herodian patrol. They might question why he's walking here by himself. And he's so flustered that the moment he begins to talk, they wil; suspect him of concealing something and arrest him.
He nervously surveys the terrain around him. Where can he go to be alone? There! There's a high hill, rising up a little to the north-east. In the wilderness on the other side of that hill, there might be a wadie where he can shelter for a while, out of sight of the world, until he can determine the author of the vision and the voice. And maybe, if he can speedily prove that it wasn't God, he can immediately return to John and offer himself as a disciple as had been his original intention. Or, if that will feel too strange after what has happened, he can return to Nazareth to try to pick up his life as builder again.
But what if it proves that the author of the vision and the voice was God after all?
He shakes his head despairingly.
Then what else can he do? He'll have to be God's messiah. The only problem is ‒ he does't have what it will take to be God's messiah.
Before he sets off on his search for a secluded spot in the wilderness where he can think of what he should do next, he turns around to look one more time at the spot where he was baptized. He was here no more than fifteen minutes ─ if even that. And in that short time, his world has been turned upside down. And it makes no difference if the voice he heard was in his imagination, was Satan’s, or God’s. He’ll never again be the Jesus he was who left Nazareth a week ago to go help John warn the children of Israel to repent because the new kingdom of God was at hand.
As he walks, the enormous emptiness of the desert valley all around him makes him feel more ill at ease than he already is. This barren wilderness is the haunt of outlaws, demons, and wild animals. And if he’s not careful, he’ll fall easy prey. But then, he’s already fallen easy prey, hasn't he?
The walk to the hill doesn't seem far at first glance, but in this heat and in his wearied condition, any distance is far, especially walking up an incline that gets steeper the further he goes. And as he goes, he begs God to give him sign to let him know if the voice he heard was his, because until he knows for sure, he won't entertain the possibility that he is the messiah.
Soon, he can no longer hear the rushing water of the Jordan river or the voices of those being baptized there. All he hears is the crunching of the small rocks under his feet and the hot wind's intermittent rippling of the sparse, dry vegetation around him.
If the voice he’d heard had been Satan’s, what had Satan seen in him to make him think he could be deceived like this?
A sad smile crosses his face. He’s only human. Like everyone, he’s surely made mistakes. He cringes as he recalls what a haughty showoff he could be when he was a kid. He remembers how good he was at learning to repeat, recite, and read Scriptures, and how the elder who taught him would constantly praise him. And so he'd constantly asked the elder to give him more Scriptures to learn. It was only later that he recognized he’d fallen in love with the elder's praise more than with the learning of Scriptures. When he realized it, he’d asked God for forgiveness. But by then, had Satan already made a note of his youthful pride?
And then he'd done the same thing again when he was a little older and should’ve known better. One day, the elder decided that he was old enough to read the Torah out loud during Sabbath services. But instead of focusing on the words of God he was reading, he was focusing on the approving smiles of those who heard him read. When he saw he’d fallen into pride again, he’d again asked God for forgiveness. But no doubt, Satan had been watching with glee, thinking he’d detected a pattern.
At the foot of the hill, the climb up begins gently but then steepens. Loose stones are shifting under his feet, and a little further up, he slips backwards, catching himself on a thorny bush. He winces as it scratches his palm. He looks at it and licks a pin prick of blood away and thinks to himself if this is the worst wound he suffers on this journey, it will be a godsend.
As he continues to climb up the hill, the desert heat is unrelenting. It isn't long before he has to stop under one of the scattered acacia trees to seek a moment of shelter from the scorching sun.
He unties his waterskin from his belt. It feels light. He shakes it. He should've filled it before he left the river. But he was in no state of mind to think of that then. And it’s not big a problem. The river is not far away. And when he’s found a place to shelter, he can always double back to get more water.
He takes out the stopper from the waterskin, takes a sip of water, and then replaces the stopper. From the portion of the cloak resting on his shoulders, he fashions a cap to cover his head to shield it from the sun, and then continues his climb up the hill.
He thinks of Satan again. Where else could Satan have seen him stray from the path of God. He remembers all those arguments he’d had with the elder about Scriptural interpretations. One argument in particular stands out. He’d been so sure of his interpretation that he completely dismissed the argument of the elder, so much so that the elder had screamed, “Right, Jesus! Only you and God know what this passage means! You’re right! No one else has any idea!”
He’d felt so awful afterwards that the apology he’d offered the elder didn’t seem weighty enough. And when he had asked God for forgiveness again, he’d wondered if God was also getting tired of his repeated offences. But someone who would surely never have gotten tired of it was Satan.
But then in self-defense, had he been wrong in his Scriptural interpretation? As he saw it, the elder was too stuck in his ways. The elder was always interpreting passages according to the letter of the law instead of looking also at the spirit of it. And that had bothered him so.
Case in point. One Sabbath, he’d helped a poor farmer pull his donkey out of a ditch that the stubborn animal had stumbled into. When the elder heard about it, he’d said he’d broken Sabbath restrictions. What? When he'd asked how doing good on the Sabbath could be wrong, the elder didn’t want to hear it and accused him of being too smart for his own good sometimes. Had Satan also made the same assessment of him?
He doubted that what he’d done had been a breach of Sabbath restrictions. How could helping someone rescue an animal that their livelihood depends on be forbidden on the Sabbath? That made no sense to him. But was it his place, as a teenager, to argue like that with the elder who only had his best interest in mind?
Halfway up the hill, he feels his calf and thigh muscles ache. He pauses to catch his breath. The climb is harder than he’d imagined, but he continues to struggle up.
When he reaches the crest, a gust of wind tugs at his tunic and cloak and momentarily dries the sweat on his arms and face. He takes another sip of water and looks around in all directions. To the west, he sees the Jordan river with the hazy line of the Judean hills far beyond it. To the north, he sees rolling hills, pale, and empty. To the east, he can see the expanse of the Jordan wilderness stretching towards the highlands of Perea. And to the south, the shimmery haze of the Dead Sea. This is the land where so many whom God called spent their time hiding, learning, coping with what it meant to be in the service of God. Is he one of them now? Or is he the dupe of Satan? Or the dupe of his own imagination?
He scans the land to the south-west of the hill, trying to find a clue as to where a wadi might be where he can hide while he figures out what’s best to do. At first glance, all the land looks the same: ridges, folds, shallow depressions, pale limestone stretching in every direction. But then he notices small differences. There, almost invisible upon first seeing, is a long, shallow depression running westward. It's a faint darkening of soil where water might've run in winter, a smudge of green where no green should be. And then he sees what appears to be a small cluster of tamarisks. That’s where water has run off this hill for centuries. And that’s where a wadi could be.
With the spot fixed in his mind, he begins to descend the hill. The ground drops away more quickly than it looked from above. The soil is loose, a mix of chalk dust and small stones. He moves sideways at times, one hand out to steady himself on the large boulders he passes in his descent. His sandals slip over and over, and he’s praying not to go tumbling head-first, all the way down the hill.
Now the slope eases slightly, but the footing stays treacherous. He glances up every few steps to keep the tamarisk patch in sight. At times it's not in his field of vision as he descends, but then he spots it again.
When he reaches the bottom of the hill, he continues to walk in the direction of the tamarisk patch. After some time, he comes upon a shallow gully, a sure sign that winter water has run here throughout the ages. He knows he’s on the right track. There has to be a wadi nearby.
As he walks, the sides of the gully rise almost without him noticing. What was a shallow dip now becomes a more defined channel. The horizon narrows, and the sun is no longer directly beating down on him. The gully curves gently to the right, and he can feel the air getting a little cooler. He smells dust, stone, and a faint hint of dampness, left over perhaps from the storm he was caught in a few days ago when he was walking from Nazareth to Bethany Beyond the Jordan.
Now the gully opens into a broader wadi, a shallow, wide bottomed channel running westward. This is what he saw from the hilltop: a long, gentle depression. The floor here is softer. His feet sink slightly into the silt. There are more plants here: low shrubs; a few tufts of grass; and, farther along, the tamarisks he aimed for.
As he walks on, the wadi bends again, more sharply this time. Beyond the bend, the walls look higher, the light narrower. He can’t see what’s there, but he knows this is where the water will run, if and when it comes. Although there probably will not be another storm so soon after the other one, he won’t chance it. He needs to find another place to shelter.
He leaves the wadi and walks on, scanning the terrain as he goes. He decides to walk in a south-east direction, toward a line of low white hills. Soon he comes upon a shallow basin between two ridges with soft sand, scattered shrubs, and a few tufts of grass.
It looks promising. But as he steps in to it, he immediately knows it’s wrong. The smell hits him first. The sharp scent of musk. There must be wild animals here. And then he sees them.
He freezes. A pack of jackals is standing clustered around a pool of mud. They’re eyeing him. He holds his breath as he fights to stay motionless. And he silently prays the words of David’s psalm, “Protect me, O God, for in you I take refuge.”
The jackals stare at him. His fear intensifies. They look lean, ribs showing through their fur.
For a few seconds more, the jackals study him with menacing eyes. Then, to his wonderment and relief, the jackals slowly turn, one by one, and walk away.
He exhales. That was close. And he whispers, “I give thanks to you, O Lord my God, with my whole heart, and I will glorify your name forever.”
Still shaken, he leaves the basin behind and continues to walk further towards the low hills, conscious of the fact that behind every rock or bush more wild animals could be prowling.
But then it strikes him. If Satan had marked him as his prey, would those jackals have walked away so timidly without attacking? Or had he just receive the sign from God he’d been praying for?
Then he snickers at himself for his foolishness. How could he have thought that he might be in the ban of Satan? That makes about as much sense as him being the messiah. Both propositions are crazy. He’s always tried to be holy because the Lord his God is holy. He may have strayed from God’s ways ever so slightly now and then. But never so far as to let Satan in. Never! That never happened.
Or is that just another of his prideful overestimations, this time about he unquestionableness of his piety? He’d been accused of that before, by his younger brother Jude, for example. Jude had been given a small copper coin once when he’d helped a merchant fix a hinge of the door to his storage room that had unexpectedly broken. It had been a particularly bad harvest year, and instead of spending the small copper coin on something for himself, Jude had donated it to the synagogue to help the poor. The next day, everyone in Nazareth knew about it.
Afterwards, he’d pulled his brother aside and assured him that he’d done a good deed. But then he'd explained that the next time he did a good deed, he shouldn’t brag about it. He should just keep it between him and God. Then God would reward him handsomely. But since he’d already been rewarded by the kind words of everyone in the village, why would God feel the need to add extra reward to that?
Jude had been so upset by what he’d told him that he’d called him sanctimonious. And is that what he’d been? He’d heard the same from other siblings and acquaintances at times when he’d offered what he thought was appropriate religious advice. And had Satan deemed him sanctimonious too?
He sighs. If Satan had deemed him temptable, it was surely he, himself, who had given Satan that impression. He had always demanded of himself that he live devoutly. But every now and then, he knows he stumbled. Lately, he found himself succumbing completely to his anger at the injustice he saw all around him. He couldn't take this world anymore in which the faithful of Israel were continuing to be crushed by constantly increasing taxes extracted by Rome, by Herod Antipas, and by the Temple in Jerusalem. He was sick and tired of having to see neighbor after neighbor forced to borrow money to be able to pay those taxes and then stand helplessly by when they lost their land when they could no longer repay what they'd borrowed. To have to witness the cruelty and suffering his neighbors had to endure had become too much for him. And so, after many a Sabbath service, in the company of family and acquaintances, he would rail against the authorities, so vehemently at times, that those who heard him worried he was about to turn into a zealot. And was his anger directed only at the evil he saw all around him? Or could Satan have surmised that he was unconsciously upset with God also for having delayed the end of Israel’s suffering for so long now?
There’s no denying he’d grown increasingly impatient. And many times, he’d publicly cried out to God in heaven like the distressed people of Israel did in the prayer of Isaiah, “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down!”
And as he recalls praying those words, he stops dead in his tracks. He casts a questioning glance up at the cloudless sky and repeats the words out loud, “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down!”
"Oh my word!" he gasps. That’s what that vision was! God tearing open the boundary between heaven and earth and coming down in answer to his prayers. It was so obvious. How could he have missed it? Or did he just too quickly dismiss it at the shock of realizing the voice had pronounce him the messiah? But there was no more denying it ‒ the voice he'd heard could only have been God calling him, and at the realization, he sinks down to his knees in deep reverence in the hot sand. And as he gazes up at the blue sky, his body trembling, he whispers: “Abba. Forgive me my confusion at your calling. It felt too big for it to have been meant for me. And so I first accused my imagination and then Satan for speaking those words. But I now know it was you calling. And I now realize this is the moment that Israel has been waiting for. The present age of evil is about to end and your new kingdom here on earth is about to begin. And for reasons yet unknown to me, you've chosen me to help bring the transition about. I would've thought you'd have called on the messiah for this. That's what the Scriptures had always suggested. Or am I your messiah, just not a kingly one? Or does the name even matter? Messiah, messenger, prophet, agent? But since you've chosen me, please tell me what is you are asking me to do. Ask anything, and I'll do it for you, Abba. But I must know what it is you need me to do."
But instead of God answering his entreaties, all he hears is the distant cries of screeching vultures.
He wipes the sweat from his brow. He didn’t really expect God to speak again. God says in Scriptures, “Hear my words: When there are prophets among you, I the Lord make myself known to them in visions; I speak to them in dreams.” So he'll have to stay here in the wilderness for awhile and pray for insight and wisdom until he knows that God wants him to do to help bring about the new kingdom.
He shakes his head, unable to take in the enormity of having been called by God. He wonders if feeling both exhilarated and deeply troubled is normal. It must be. All the prophets must've felt the same. God doesn't call anyone to do easy work. And that's why, although all prophets did what God asked of them, none actually succeeded in bringing Israel back to God. That must be what God is asking of him too. And will his attemp be met with the same fate? That's what he finds so troubling.
He struggles to his feet. He has to find a shelter fast, or he'll succumb to this intolerable heat. But he's almost too tired, too sapped of energy to go on. How could John have prophesied that one more powerful than he was coming. Look at him. He's not even close to being as powerful as John. John is a bear of a man, and he's nearing exhaustion already. And why would John have felt unworthy to untie his sandals? He's no better than John. So what could John have been thinking? Or could John have gotten his prophecy wrong? Could it be he had expected the Son of Man to come soon and for the present age to end immediately with his coming? That must've been what he was expecting. He certainly wouldn't have said what he said if he'd known the son of Joseph and Mary was about to appear. Because son of Joseph and Mary is no stronger and certainly not better than John, even if God chose him and not John to be the messiah.
Soon, the land begins to dip dramatically, and he sees what looks like the entrance to a wadi opening up before him. The entrance is narrow and littered with stones he has to climb over. Once he's inside, the walls of the wadi rise higher, blocking the direct rays of the sun, and he thanks God for this welcomed relief.
As he ventures deeper into wadi, it bends sharply to his right, and then, shoulder-height from the floor of the wadi, he see a hollow carved into the left wall, the size of a large room. He climbs into it and inspects it. It’s almost as big as his family’s room in Nazareth. And even if there’s a storm and water comes rushing down the wadi floor, he’ll be safe up here. And he thanks God for having guided him to such a secure spot where he can take the time to learn what he must do as the messiah.
Standing in the middle of his wadi room, he unties his belt and lets it fall to the ground. He takes his bag and his cloak off his shoulders and lays them down. Then he raises his arms, trying to stretch the ache and the tiredness out of his body. He inspects the wadi room for unwanted creatures and then uses his sandals to sweep away some small stones and other debris from an area in the back of the room where he’ll probably sleep tonight. When he’s done, he sits down at the front of his wadi room and lets his tired legs dangle over the edge. And as he stares up at the narrow strip of sky peeking into the wadi, he wonders if God is looking at him and if he’s still content with having chosen him for his messiah after he'd so adamantly denied that the voice he’d heard was God's.
But he loves God, and he now knows God loves him too. But he's so worried about what God is asking of him. The messiah everyone was expecting was a powerful king who would set right what had gone wrong in Israel over the centuries. He would destroy all of Israel's enemies and bring its people back to God.
But he feels as he did when he was young and his father took him along on jobs to teach him how to become a builder. At first, he knew nothing of the trade, and every new skill he had to learn seemed so daunting. But he did learn, and over the years he became a master builder who was respected for his expertise. But who is going to teach him to become the messiah? And how long will it take? Best not too long. God had acted, and he needs to react as soon as possible. But how can he react, if he isn't sure what God wants him to do?As he's sitting there thinking, he hears his stomach growl. He fingers through the contents of his shoulder bag to see if perhaps a small date or a broken-off piece of bread is hiding in there somewhere. But to no avail. He knew he’d eaten it all. And he’s also out of water. He takes the stopper out of his waterskin, pokes in a finger, and wets his tongue and his lips with the residue that remains. He’ll have to go down to the river for water and to forage for food. But not now. He's too tired, and it's close to dusk. It'll be too dangerous.
He momentarily closes his eyes, and as he does so, he hears a dripping sound.
Water?
For a moment he thinks he’s imagined it. Then he hears it again.
Drip....................drip....................drip.
It’s coming from below.
He climbs down from his wadi chamber, follows the sound with his ear, and then sees it. Water is slowly seeping from a thin crease in the wall. A small pool of water has formed in a stone depression on the wadi floor. With a cupped hand, he scoops up a little water and drinks it.
Ouch! That’s the hand he scratched up on the thorny bush earlier today.
With his other hand, he scoops some more water and drinks it.
And then his eye catches a shrub almost hidden behind a large boulder just beyond where the water is trickling down from the wall. He knows instantly what it is. A sidr bush and it has a small cluster of dusty gold fruit growing among its thorny, twisted branches.
He reaches for one, plucks it, and rolls it between his fingers. The skin is slightly wrinkled. He bites into it. It’s sweet. He plucks another, and then another, and then another till they are all gone. And then he wishes there were more. But this will do for now. And it reminds him of when Elijah was in this same wilderness and the angels came and brought him bread and water. Yes, he’s in the same wilderness as Elijah was, and the angels are ministering to him too. And it’s another sign that God is not guilty of mistaken identity. God has indeed chosen him, Jesus of Nazareth, as his messiah. But instead of feeling joy, as might be expected when one is chosen by God, all he feels apprehension. What could it be that God is asking him to do, and what can he do to figure it out?
He struggles back up to his wadi chamber and sits down with his legs dangling over the edge. He pulls his cloak tighter around him as he again examines the words God spoke to him. There must be clues there.
“You are my son, the beloved. With you I am well pleased?”
He shakes his head. What do those words mean? You are my Son. You are my messiah. You are the one I’ve chosen. To do what exactly? You are the beloved. The beloved of whom? Of God? Of others? How so? He knows he’s his mother’s beloved. She loved him more than she loved her other children, his siblings always claimed. Thought that was probably not true, or only because he was her first born. Isaac was Abraham's first born, and he was Abraham’s beloved. And Isaac was to be sacrificed for God, till God relented and let him live. Is God calling him to be sacrificed? And will God relent and let him live also? God didn’t let Moses live. Moses brought the people to the edge of promised land. But Moses himself was never allowed to enter it. In one way or another, God is asking him to keep bringing faithful sinners to the new kingdom of God that is at hand. But will God also keep him from entering it?
And what did God mean by "With you I am well pleased?" He shakes his head again. He doesn't want to try to enumerate what God might've found pleasing about him. He might get it wrong, and Satan may be watching.
Such dark thoughts when the moment should've brought such happiness. God had come down from heaven and had chosen him to make it known that the present age of evil and suffering was about to end and the new age of justice and peace about to begin for the repentant faithful. But he just couldn't fathom what his part was supposed to be in this. Was he to replace John at Bethany Beyond the Jordan? Was he to go find another place along the Jordan river to deliver the message? Was he to go to Jericho, or Jerusalem, or some other large city to proclaim that the new kingdom was at hand? No! That would be too dangerous. The message could be seen as a direct challenge to Roman rule. It could be interpreted as sedition. And the Romans response to sedition was arrest and execution. That's why John had chosen a place in the wilderness to deliver his message. Delivering it anywhere else was just too risky.
He’s dead tired. He stands up, grabs his shoulder bag, takes off his cloak, and then lies down on the hard earth at the back of his wadi chamber. He wraps his cloak around himself like a blanket. He positions his shoulder bag and lies his head on it. Then he shifts his body several times to try to find a position that is comfortable. But no position is comfortable, and so he quits trying.
For a while he prays, and he assures God he's not balking. He'll do do whatever it is God is asking him to do. But he must first know what that is.
He thinks again about the vision and voice, and this time, he stops on a detail he’s not yet focused on much. Just before he heard the voice, he’d seen something come fluttering down like a dove and descend on him. What had been the significance of that ─ something descending on the anointed one?
He runs through Scriptures again, focusing on passages he can recall about the anointed one, and he comes again to Isaiah: “The spirit of the Lord God is upon me because the Lord has anointed me.”
And elsewhere Isaiah says also, "Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations."
Could it be that he's also a servant of God in whom God's soul delights? Is that why God said he was well pleased with him? And is that why God let his Holy Spirit descend on him? To help him carry out what God is asking?
And look where Isaiah says, “He has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, to provide for those who mourn in Zion.”
Oh my word! Could that be what God is asking him to do? Bring the good news to the oppressed and to all who have suffered in the land of Israel. Bring it to them! Don't wait for them to come to you, as John had been doing. But venture forth to wherever they are and deliver the good news.
The realization of what God is asking strikes fear in his heart. And he wonders what kind of a messiah he is if he feels fear at what God is asking of him? But pronouncing that the end is near and a new kingdom about to come on public streets, town squares, and in village synagogues is not save. How long would it be before he is arrested or even killed? Or are God and the Holy Spirit going to make sure that that doesn't happen to their messiah? Will they keep him safe? Or is he being sent on a death mission?
No! That couldn't be. God would never send him on a death mission. He's probably making everything worse than it seems, just as his father Joseph had always said of him. But is that really true? Of all those called into God's service, most failed. Was he the next to do so?
He sighs deeply, but then immediately chastises himself. Who is he to wonder about this or about that? If God says "do this," you do it with no questions asked, with no thought about the cost to yourself. What God has asked of him is a beautiful thing: go out and tell the faithful sinners of Israel wherever they are the good news that their suffering will soon end if only they'll repent. Every faithful sinner of Israel is entitled to hear that message. And God has chosen him to deliver the good news. What a blessing. What an honor. And hadn't he just concluded that the Holy Spirit is at his side? So why fear, why doubt? Let the Holy Spirit lead the way and you just do what has to be done ─ prepare the suffering souls of Israel for the coming of the new kingdom.
Tomorrow, and for as long as it takes, he'll think, plan, and practice his mission. He'll need to figure where to begin ─ although, could it be anywhere else but Galilee? He's lived in Galilee all his life and knows its villages and its people. He'll have to figure out how to approach them and what to say. Perhaps, he'll go to Bethsaida first. He could recruit strong fishermen there to help him. Are there people more dependable than strong fishermen? And he must learn how best to go into synagogues and the Temple and challenge what they teach ─ their convoluted view of how to interpret what the Scriptures say. And he must prepare his followers for the coming crisis when this evil world is about to be destroyed and the new kingdom ushered in. And as importantly, he must learn how to go about his business in secret. For as long as possible, he'll need to avoid attracting the attention of the authorities. Once the authorities begin to take notice, they may try to stop him. And then, what would happen to those faithful sinners of Israel who never got to hear his warning to repent. Surely, they would never get to enter the new kingdom of God. And he'd be responsible for their being lost to God forever.
There's so much to consider, and he'll probably be in the wilderness for many days to come communing with God and the Holy Spirit to learn what he needs to learn. But when he's ready, he'll make haste. The coming of the new age is fast approaching. And if he doesn't start as soon as he's ready, too many faithful sinners of Israel will miss the warning and will be condemned to perish in the unquenchable flames of Gehenna.
And when he's ready to leave the wilderness, the first thing he'll have to do is go back to Bethany Beyond the Jordan and tell John what happened. And that may be awkward. What will he say to John? That he's God's chosen one? John will see immediately that he's not the powerful one that John was expecting, not the one he was not worthy to stoop down to to untie the strap of his sandals. Will John be disappointed? Will John even believe that he is God's chosen one? Will anyone believe him? Or is what happened today just too big for any human being to comprehend.
As Jesus leaves the wadi for the last time, he’s not sure how long he was in the wilderness. Probably as long as Moses was on Sinai or Elijah on his journey to Mount Horeb ‒ just long enough for the Holy Spirit to have turned him from who he was into who he needs to be.
The days of learning were long, and the nights were cold and full of prayer. And he can see he’s a lot thinner than he was when he entered the wilderness. He had access to the water of the Jordan river, but not too much food. The angels weren't all that generous in ministering to him.
But the wilderness gave him all he needed. The Spirit has taught him that the new kingdom will not come about by a wielding of swords. It will come about only when God is ready to pronounce his judgment, which he is likely to do very soon. And then those who stand with God will be saved, and those who don’t will be damned. That’s the simple message ─ the good news ─ that he’s going to bring to the faithful sinners of Israel.
But will anyone listen to his message? Or have they already suffered so much at the hands of the Roman occupiers and their hangers-on that they are dead to the idea that help could be on the way? That wouldn’t surprise him. Therefore, he’ll need to work all the harder to reach all those who are broken, sick, hopeless, or demon possessed. And with the Holy Spirit at his side, he trusts he will be able to do things that he can't even imagine right now. Because it will take miracles to fix the broken, the sick, the hopeless, and the demon possessed.
When he gets back to the Jordan river, he decides to fill his waterskin before heading back to Bethany Beyond the Jordan. As he kneels down to put his waterskin in the water, he sees a man, a woman, and a few children eating breakfast on a stress of bank between two large boulders a little way downriver. Jesus looks away, not wanting to disturb their privacy. But the man calls out, "Stranger, come and have breakfast with us."
Jesus puts the stopper back in his filled waterskin and stands up. "Thank you kindly," he says, conscious of how haggard he must look, how unkempt. "But I'm in a hurry."
"Where you headed," the man asks.
"Bethany Beyond the Jordan and then on to Galilee," Jesus says. He feels the woman and the kids starting at him. He must be quite a sight after all this time in the wilderness with so little food and so little opportunity for cleanliness.
"You look too thin to be able to walk all the way to Galilee," the man says. "Stay and eat with us."
"I thank you kindly," Jesus protests, "but I'm in a real hurry."
"I won't ask you why," the man says. "A man's business is a man's business. But here. Take this piece of bread and this piece of fish and eat it on the way."
Jesus gladly accepts the provision offered him. He hasn't dare admit to himself how hungry he's been. He says to the man, "I can pay you for this."
But as he reaches into his shoulder bag to retrieve some copper coins he's carrying with him, the man says, "No, no, no! No payment required. The Scriptures tell us to be kind to strangers, and we're the kind that try to do what the Scriptures require.
"May God reward you a hundredfold for your kindness," Jesus says. And certain that he is talking to a devout Jew, he adds for the very first time the message that God has asked him to deliver to humanity. "I have it on the highest authority that the kingdom of God is near. If you believe that and repent and continue to walk in the ways of God, you’ll undoubtedly be part of God's new kingdom.
"Pray your words may come true, and soon," the man says. "God's new kingdom can't come any too soon."
Jesus nods in agreement. "Trust my word," he assures the man and his family. "It will soon be here." Then he waves to family, gets back to the trail, and continues on his walk to Bethany Beyond the Jordan, nibbling on the bread and the fish. After all the locust, bitter greens, honey, and occasional fruit he's eaten the last few weeks, this food is a feast, and he is thankful God and to the family who gave it to him. These are the kinds of people God needs in his new kingdom, and this man and his family will surely be welcomed to live there when it arrives.
It felt good to have spoken God's message out loud for the first time. But perhaps it was also too easy. A devout Jewish family who had shown him kindness. What could go wrong? He had no pretentions that the next time he spoke these words, they wouldn't come out quite as easily as they did just now.
As he continues to walk, he's not sure what he's going to say to John when he gets to Bethany Beyond the Jordan. It might be best not even to tell him about the vision and the voice. Since only he saw it and heard it, he couldn't prove to John, or to anyone, that it had been real. And because John's expectation had been so high about the one who was soon to come, his disappointment about seeing a builder from Nazareth in front of him would lead him to disbelief. So perhaps, he shouldn't say anything to John. Or maybe just ask what John would think about him taking the mission to Galilee and call people to repentance there. Would John think that was a good idea? Regardless, it's going to be a delicate conversation that he's not looking forward to. Perhaps, he should just let the Holy Spirit drive the conversation. That way, he won't say the wrong things to John.
It’s midmorning by the time Jesus get back to Bethany beyond the Jordan. As he nears the river, he hears the water before he sees it. But he doesn’t hear any human voices, and no John calling out in his booming voice to the penitents.
He frowns. Could he be in the wrong place?
When he gets closer, he sees a solitary young man sitting on a rock among the willow trees, the same rock he’d sat on just before he fled from Bethany Beyond the Jordan after his baptism. The young man is mindlessly throwing pebbles into the water.
Jesus calls out to him. “Have you seen John? The baptizer”
The young man shakes his head. “He’s gone,” the young man says, as he throws another pebble into the water.
“Gone?” Jesus asks. “You mean, he’s gone elsewhere to baptize?”
“If only,” the young man says.
“What do you mean, 'if only'?”
“I heard he got arrested.”
“Arrested?” Jesus feels his body recoil at the shocking news. He knew John's message ─ his message ─ was dangerous. But he'd thought Bethany Beyond the Jordan was far enough away from the centers of authority not to attract attention. But boy, had he been wrong!
"When? How?
“Three days ago? I just heard from someone down the road that henchmen from that ass, Herod Antipas, came and hauled him away.”
“That’s not good,” Jesus says, more to himself than to the young man.
“No! Not good at all,” the young man says. “I heard in Abila what John was doing, so I came here today to be baptized by him. What a wasted trip.”
Jesus' thoughts are racing. John's been arrested. Unbelievable. Now that difficult conversation with him will never have to happen. But this makes it so clear that what John was doing was very dangerous. He'll have to drastically change his approach in delivering God's message if he want to avoid John's fate.
But then he realizes he's busy with his own concerns when he should be concerned about the young man sitting in front of him who missed out on being baptized by John.
“I can baptize you if you want,” he says. “So at least your trip from Abila won’t be wasted.
“You’re not one of John’s men, are you? Would it count the same as with John?”
The question makes Jesus think about what John had said about the one more powerful baptizing with the Holy Spirit. That's certainly not what he's going to be doing. He will baptize this young man with water, just as John would've done. He simply doesn't know what John meant by the phrase "baptizing with the Holy Spirit mean." He can't recall any words in Scriptures that talked about baptizing with the Holy spirit. But he can think of many passages where the prophets talk about the spirit being poured out over the house of Israel, its descendants, and on all flesh. Is that what John meant by baptism by the Holy Spirit? If so, he must've expected the end to come quickly. No Elijah first, no messiah, just the Son of Man and the instant end of the present age.
“Yes it will be the same,” Jesus says. “But you must promise to repent of your sins and believe me when I say that the kingdom of God is near. You’re old enough to know what repentance means, right?”
“Repentance is, uh, it’s uh, it's like, you know, like..."
Jesus steps toward the young man and puts a hand on his shoulders. “Listen and hear. Repentance means being sorry ‒ truly sorry ‒ for every time you broke a commandment of the God of Israel. Sorry for every time you failed to love your neighbor as yourself. Sorry for every time you turned away someone in need when you had the means or ability to help. Repentance means facing what you’ve done wrong and choosing a different path. God’s kingdom is very near. If you repent and are baptized, you can be part of God’s new kingdom. But your repentance must be sincere, or it means nothing. Will you repent, knowing now what it means?”
“Yes. I will,” the young man says."
"Come then. Let’s go into the water. What's your name?"
"Andrew."
The young man stands up, removes his sandals and his cloak, and wades into the river. Jesus takes off his own sandals, cloak, and shoulder bag and follows. The water is colder than he remembers. Time is moving quickly.
Jesus puts his hand on Andrew’s shoulder and gently pushes him under the water. Then he helps Andrew come up again. And as Andrew's face come up out of the water, Jesus looks up at the blue sky, recalling how it ripped apart when his own face had come up out of the water. And it strikes him that the roiling sea that he'd seen in his vision wasn't there to suggest that water was going to engulf the earth again. It was there to suggest that the Holy Spirit would pour down on all of mankind and separate the good and the evil, and doom the evil, and guide the good toward the new kingdom.
When the baptism is done, the young man shakes the water out of his long locks. “Thanks," he says. "I'd just about given up on being baptized. Don't know why John's the only one doing it, do you?”
“Well, he's not the only one," Jesus says, smiling at the young man. "I just baptized you."
"Dough," the young man says, slapping his forehead.
"But see that you don’t tell anyone," Jesus say. "You know what happened to John.”
"Yeah,” the young man says, as he straps on his sandals and pulls his cloak back on. As Jesus does the same, the young man scoops up a handful of pebbles and says, "Well, now that I actually did get baptized, I can head for home. By the way, if people ask me who I was baptized by, what should I say?”
"Say, Jesus," he says, almost adding "from Nazareth." But he thinks it's better not to reveal his full identity just yet.
"Well thanks, Jesus," the young man says as he starts walking way. If you're eve in Abila, perhaps we can meet again."
“If you keep God's commandments," Jesus calls after him, "we’ll surely meet again ─ very soon.”
He doesn’t know if the young man heard him. He just keeps walking, throwing pebbles in the river. Jesus watches him go and sighs. Perhaps this too is a sign.
Today was the second time that Bethany Beyond the Jordan has shocked him into awareness. The arrest of John weights heavily on him. John was arrested here, in a place where he should've been out of earshot of the authorities. But he wasn't. So how will he fare when he starts pronouncing that the end is near and a new kingdom about to come on public streets and town squares and in village synagogues? How long before is arrested too?
And he questions again whether the vision he saw and the voice he heard were real, or if they were just in his imagination. But no! That was crazy. He's trying again to run away from God like Jonah had done. But like Jonah, he should know that there is no running away from God. The voice was definitely God's voice. And no matter how dangerous the mission is, he has to obey what God is asking. There is no other way. He'll just have to be cautious, start out slowly, be secretive. But how can he? God's message has to be proclaimed publicly. But how can he proclaim it publicly without ending up like John or worse? And the more he thinks about it, the more the mission begins to feel like a trap ‒ a path where failure is built into the very steps God is asking him to take.
But no! That cannot be. If the mission has no chance of success, God would never have called him. And so he should just quit doubting and go do what God has asked him to do. God will never forsake him, just as he would never forsake God, he's sure of that. And with that thought in mind, he leaves Bethany Beyond the Jordan and sets out for Bethsaida in the Galilee, but not as resolutely as he'd set out to go to Bethany Beyond the Jordan some weeks ago.
To be continued. If you have comments so far, please email Rio Jansen at rio_jansen@hotmail.com.