LIFE IN DEATH.
The night was stormy, and rough winds swept over the sea of Tiberias, raising the waves and scattering their spray as if it had been the sand of the desert. The moon had set, and the stars were fading before the grey dawn which began to open in the east, while the deep shadows yet lay upon the face of the waters. Even at this hour, when the wild animals were couched in the caves of the rock, and the birds nestled on the pine boughs which were tossed by the blast, man was abroad to contend with nature. In the midst of the deep there were vessels rocking and pitching upon the waves, and men were labouring, with oar and rudder, to master the strength of the elements. In one of these lay Sadoc, the son of Imri. He had toiled at the oar with his companions during part of the night. About the fourth watch he became weary, and giving his place to another, he retired to the stern, to watch in stillness the event of the storm. He was chilled by the spray which dashed over him, and his soul was awed by the roaring of the winds and waters. He looked towards the east; the dawn was there, but it brightened not; and the dim grey light only shewed the white surges as they broke against the sides of the vessel. Sadoc felt as if alone in the midst of the sea, when the passing gust brought to his ear the voices of men, and told him that others also were struggling in fear. He rose, and attempting to stand firm while the stern was uplifted on the wave, he gazed in the direction whence the voices came. He saw nothing, and again sat down to wait for day; but as he turned, he beheld somewhat moving amidst the showers of spray. Garments fluttered in the blast, and a form like that of a man was shadowed forth to the eye of Sadoc. It glided not on the wind, nor was tossed like one who swims, but made for itself a path among the billows, which rolled aside at its approach, and in an instant closed again. It passed onwards, and disappeared. Sadoc leaned over the side of the vessel, and was well-nigh swallowed up by the surge, when a hand drew him back, and his companions asked wherefore he despised his life, and cared not for safety.
“Behold! a spirit hath passed,” was his reply, as he gazed once more towards the rising of the wind. His companions gazed also, and they beheld a sudden light break upon the waters, where a vessel like their own was crossing the deep. Two men were at the moment ascending the side of the ship, round which a sudden calm was spreading. It spread rapidly afar. The wind breathed its last sigh and was hushed. The waters also were still, and the foam which settled on their surface, alone told that a storm had passed away. The golden sunbeams shot up into the clear firmament from behind the mountains. The palm-groves were motionless; the lightest reed on the margin of the lake bowed not its head; and over the glittering radiance of morning brooded the silence of night.
The boatmen gazed at each other, and at Sadoc, who made a sign that they should row towards the other vessel. When the splash of the oars was once more heard, many tongues which had been chained through fear were loosed at once, and all demanded of Sadoc,
“What spirit hast thou seen? Whom hath Jehovah sent to hush the storm?”
“Hasten, hasten!” was his reply, as he seized an oar. The vessel clave the waters swiftly, but the other ship was already at Bethsaida.
As soon as they approached the land, Sadoc leaped forth upon the beach, and heard from some who were already gathered together, that the Prophet had gone with his disciples into a desert place, whither the inhabitants of Bethsaida would follow, that he might teach them and heal their sick.
“We saw him retire to the place of prayer on the mountain on the further shore so late as the first watch of yesternight,” said one of Sadoc’s companions. “And ours was the last vessel which hath crossed.”
“It was so,” replied Sadoc: “yet the Teacher is here. It was he whom I beheld as a spirit. It was he who hushed the storm.”
Sadoc hastened towards the desert place, that he might again learn of the Prophet; but, by the way, he heard one calling his name. He turned and beheld Elochi, the oldest servant of his father’s house. The man bowed not himself till he came so near as to lay hold of Sadoc’s garment, the border of which he kissed and placed upon his forehead. Sadoc raised him and touched his cheek, saying,
“Wherefore art thou come hither, Elochi? The court of my father’s house is a fitter place for thee. Thy staff will scarce uphold thine age, and thy scrip is a burden to thee.”
“Thy father mourneth that thou hast not returned for so long; and I came forth to seek thee, Sadoc, and entreat thee to carry back joy to thy habitation.”
"Hath the hand of the Lord smitten any whom I love? Is all well with my father and my mother? Is it well with Michal?”
“All is well; and Michal, thy sister, bade me tell thee that she alone hath not sorrowed for thy absence, for she alone knew wherefore thou hast tarried. But thy mother pineth for thee, and thy father beseecheth the Lord for thee that thou mayest be no more deluded by a false prophet.”
“False he is not,” replied Sadoc, “and I will know whether he be the Messiah indeed, before I go back to my father’s house.”
“Nay, but thy father’s anger is fierce against thee.”
“It will be so no more when he also shall acknowledge the Teacher,” replied Sadoc.
"Yet let his sorrow move thee, if thou fearest not his anger,” said the old man. “He weepeth for thee. Be thou his comforter.”
Sadoc looked wistfully towards the path which the Teacher had trod: but the old man continued,
“Thy sister endureth reproach for thee, and when her father’s anger is upon her, she looketh for thee and thou comest not. Yet she hath hindered me thus far from seeking thee.”
Sadoc doubted no longer, but turned his face homeward, He looked sorrowful, but the old man rejoiced. “Tarry not for me,” he cried, “My strength is not as thine. Hasten, and I will follow; but say not that I sought thee.”
It was mid-day when Sadoc reached his father’s house after a toilsome journey of many hours. He entered while the household were reposing from the heat, in the inner apartments. Michal alone was not on her couch. She reclined beside the fountain in the court. The coolness of the water was more refreshing, and its rippling in the marble basin more soothing to her than sleep. With her was a little child, the first-born of one of the servants of the household. Sadoc gazed on them for a moment from the porch, before he came forth to greet his sister. A smile was upon her lips as the child sported beside her. Her hand grasped him while he dipped his foot in the marble basin, and she laughed silently while she sprinkled him with drops from the fountain. When he began to shout aloud in his mirth, she lifted up her finger and hushed him lest he should awaken the sleepers. His tongue could not yet speak the accents of men, but the murmurs of his infant voice were sweet, as he sprang upon her bosom, and hid his face in the folds of her garment. When she saw some one moving within the porch, she hastily drew her veil over her face, and arose.
“The blessing of Jehovah be upon thee, Michal, my sister!’ said Sadoc, as he advanced.
“O, my brother! is it thou?” replied Michal, while the flush of joy crimsoned her cheek. “A blessing be upon thy coming in, as there doubtless was upon thine out-going! Mine eyes rejoice to behold thee, and my heart yearneth for tidings. This hour is for thee and me. Hasten to refresh thyself and come hither.”
Sadoc cast himself down beside the fountain, and sought not yet other refreshment than his sister’s words. She prepared him for reproof from his father, and besought him to be patient. She asked him of the Teacher, and he poured out his soul to her. He answered when Michal asked of mighty works, of the sick that were healed, and of the sorrowing hearts which, by power from on high, were made to sing for joy; but there were other things in which he rejoiced yet more. He told her how the long-promised kingdom drew nigh, and how sure were its blessings and glories, though they must be won by toils and sorrows. He repeated the words of the Teacher, and they were glad together over some which were full of promise; they pondered together some which were mysterious; they sighed together over some few sayings which seemed at variance with the sanctified word of Jehovah. While listening to such, Sadoc had feared to offer himself as one of the twelve men whom Jesus had chosen to be his companions and his helpers in his doctrine and his works. While listening to such, Sadoc had resolved to know all before he should seek to convert his father’s household; and he now grieved that he should have nothing to answer if his father should question him concerning them. No preparation was yet made against their Roman conquerors; and the words of the Prophet tended to lower the confidence of the chosen people, and to subvert some of their customs which were sanctified by tradition and the authority of the scribes.
Sadoc beheld how his sister’s eye still rested on the child, while they talked. He marvelled that she should have eyes or attention for any but himself, at this time. She started when the little one escaped from her grasp; and she gazed on his face with tenderness and, as it seemed, with awe.
“Hast thou no other hour for sport with the little one?” said Sadoc gravely. “I fear lest thou shouldst not have gathered up all the words of the Prophet which I have repeated to thee; for thine eyes have been fixed on the face of the child, and thy hand hath controlled his sports from the first moment of our greeting.”
“I have heard all, my brother, and I have listened with a deeper love because this little one hath been upon my knees. When I think of our Prophet, this child is as a sign of his presence unto me; and when thou goest in to plead with my father, thou shalt take the little one in thine arms, and he shall confirm thy words.”
Sadoc understood not, and gazed at his sister in doubt.
Michal held up the child’s face towards him and said,
“Salute his cheek, but bless him not. It is rather his part to bless thee. He is sanctified; he is not as one of us. He hath been called out of the world, and by the power of the Lord restored to it again. He hath come forth again from God, pure as on the day of his first birth; therefore do I feel that the spirit of God is yet newly breathed into him, and therefore do I look upon so young a child with awe.”
Sadoc silently took the child between his knees, and bowed his head unto him. The little one clasped his neck, and a light laugh rang through the court. Tears fell fast among his bright locks, as Sadoc pressed him more closely to his bosom.
“We will nurture him tenderly,” said Michal, “and when he is grown, he shall be devoted to the Lord, even as Samuel. He shall declare in the temple what Jehovah hath done for him. He was in a deeper sleep than Samuel ever slept, when the Lord spake and his young servant heard.”
“Not only in the temple shall he declare it,” replied Sadoc, “but wherever the Prophet shall be known. O, tell me, my sister, tell me if he hath been here.”
“He hath not, Sadoc. This child, the first-born of Rachel, had languished many days, and on the Sabbath before the last, we hoped no more that he could live. His limbs, which now embrace thee, were stretched out powerless; his lips, which now press thine, were drawn apart by his last struggle with death. I watched beside him with his mother. She covered her face when his sighs were heard no more. I felt that his heart beat not. I lifted his cold hand, and it dropped lifeless. When I heard the wailings of his mother, I cried, ‘Would that the Prophet had been here!’ Then Rachel stilled her grief, and wrapped the child in her mantle, and departed with her husband to seek the help which her faith deserved.”
“And didst thou not follow?”
“Alas! my father mocked at our faith, and forbade my going forth, and told how Rachel would return mourning, as she went out. I held my peace and watched, fearing only lest the Prophet should have departed. For two long days, I heard no tidings; two nights, my father asked with a smile where was the child. Twice I watched at dawn from the house-top, for the approach of a multitude, or the sound of well-known voices. Twice I prayed through the watches of the night, that this young child might be raised up to glorify the Lord, and to bring faith unto our household, On the third day at even”
“He lived, he came! Speak, Michal!”
“On the third day at even, I slept, for I was faint with watching. The murmur of voices awoke me, and I looked from my lattice into the court. The slaves had gathered together round the fountain, I knew not wherefore. At the sound of my voice they turned, and lo! in the midst this child stood alone, no longer wasted with sickness, but even as thou seest him now. I had had faith while I saw him not, that he would indeed live again; but now that I beheld him, he seemed as a spirit. His eyes were fixed on the lattice, and he moved not; but when I unveiled my face, he stretched his arms towards me, and I knew by his cry of joy that he was indeed the child whom I had mourned.”
“And my father, did he behold also? And did Rachel bring thee tidings of the Mighty One?”
“I sought Rachel, and she wept, because my father yet scorned her faith, and him who had blessed it unto her. Ask her thyself how the Prophet spake, and how, as he gazed on the face of the dead, the eyes of the child unclosed, the bloom returned to his cheek, and he smiled on his mother once again. She shall tell thee how Jesus also smiled upon her joy, and pointed on high when she fell at his feet.”
Michal held her peace while Sadoc mused. At length he said,
“Would that this child had the tongue of a man, that we might know the secrets that are hidden in the sepulchre”
“I have thought,” replied Michal, “that though our meditation hath been high as the firmament, and deep as the sea, this little one knoweth what we cannot yet know of death. I thirst for tidings, as the traveller in the desert for the water springs. I have gazed into those eyes as they were fixed in thought. I have hearkened to his murmurs in sleep, if perchance an angel should hare entered into his form. But there is no light nor music as yet shed through the darkness and silence of the grave.”
“By Jehovah alone can they be given, Michal; for our thoughts cannot measure the depth of the tomb; else thou and I had not doubted still.”
“Yet our teachers say that there is life in death: and I verily believe it. The holy prophets have believed it, when they have been cast out from among men. They who have died in torments for the faith have believed it, and many who have mourned, and many who have been condemned under the law, and many who have died in a strange land.”
“I also have hope,” replied Sadoc, “but all the days of my life would I give into the hand of the Lord to know of a truth that the spirit dieth not. And thou, child, hast been among the dead! Hast thou slept as if the shadows of night were around thee? Or hast thou beheld Jehovah when he called forth the host of heaven? Hast thou been with him when he shook the earth, and uttered his thunders among the hills? Or hast thou found him in the holy of holies, and rested with him between the cherubim; or seen his spirit descend upon his Prophet; or gone forth with his angels to the ends of the earth and the fountains of the deep? O! that thy tongue could tell what thine eye hath seen!”
“If he hath seen these glories,” replied Michal, “the body is again unto his spirit as a cloud which hideth the sun.”
“We will watch for light within the cloud, Michal. If he should hereafter dream of wanderings among the stars, or aught besides that we have not known, we will hearken to his words, and ask of the Teacher concerning them.”
“The Teacher may have knowledge of this very thing, Sadoc. He is mightier than the prophets of old, and to him it may be given to shew us somewhat of a life beyond the grave.”
“If he be the Messiah, he will tell us all things: and blessed are the ears which shall hear the truth concerning death. No angel hath yet told it; but let Jehovah speak by his Anointed, and all the families of the earth shall bow themselves to hear.”
It was evening when Sadoc walked on the house-top with Imri, his father. The wrath of Imri had risen as it was wont when he heard the name of Jesus of Nazareth.
“Thou hast stood in the synagogue from thy youth upwards, my son, and knowest thou not that out of Nazareth there ariseth no prophet?”
“I have also heard, my father, that Jehovah hath said, ‘Whoever shall not hearken unto the words which my Prophet shall speak in my name, I will require it of him.’”
“Jehoyah hath also said, that the Prophet whom he hath not sent shall die. Beware, then, my son.”
“If the thing follow not which the Prophet hath declared, he is false; but if it follow, they that refuse to hearken shall die, Jesus hath spoken and the winds are hushed, the lepers shew themselves to the priest, and the very dead arise to glorify the Mighty One.”
“There are evil powers, my son, and they have beguiled thee. Let not a child of Abraham be an outcast from Israel. Return from following after this man, lest the curse of my old age should be upon thee.”
“Curse me not, my father, but hear me.”
“Repeat once again, Sadoc, what thy false Teacher hath said; and when thou hast declared all that is in thy heart, hold thy peace, lest thou be cast out of the synagogue as a blasphemer.”
Sadoc stood still while he replied,
“If the promise I have heard be not fulfilled even as the grape yieldeth its juice in the wine press; if the words of the Prophet be not as fruitful seed let fall among the furrows; if his doctrine be not to the spirit of man like the early and the latter rain unto fields that are parched with drought; if in our day Israel be not exalted over all the earth, let me be cast forth as a blasphemer. I will abide in the caves of the rock, and the lair of beasts shall be my couch. The word of the Prophet is high as Lebanon; Carmel is less fruitful, and the water-brooks are not so pure.”
“What is this word, my son? Speak, and then be silent for ever concerning this deceiver.”
“The spirit of Jehovah is on this man, my father. He comes to fulfil the law and the prophets.”
“Nay, but, my son, he eats with unwashen hands, and permits others to do so. Holier was he, the master in Israel, who chose to perish of thirst rather than not wash with the little water he had.”
“But, my father, our Rabbins themselves agree not concerning this matter; and some suffer us to eat fruits with unwashen hands. This Prophet is greater than they. He speaketh woe against the Hebrew who breaketh the least of the commandments of Moses.”
“Said he not also that the Pharisees were not righteous?—the holy Pharisees, the borders of whose garments he is not worthy to uplift! Doth he not intermeddle also with the thoughts of the heart, which are a man’s own, and which none but Jehovah knoweth?”
“Out of the heart, my father, proceed obedience and rebellion. A man cannot obey the law unless his heart be right with God. If the heart be pure, the actions will be clean, even as waters which are not defiled at their source.”
“Hold thy peace, Sadoc! Knoweth not a man that which is within him? I myself have kept the law as few have kept it, and what is it to thee,—how knowest thou, what is in mine heart?”
Sadoc looked down and held his peace.
“Tell me,” said his father, “if this Jesus hath given any new commandment which shall be joined to the law. Hath he ordained new sacrifices? Hath he added to the ceremonies of the temple? Hath he imposed new forms of worship on the sons and daughters of Israel? Nay, rather he scorns our holy traditions.”
“He hath imposed no forms, my father, but he giveth precepts. He commandeth to love, to make peace, to worship in pureness of heart, in solitude rather than before a multitude. He biddeth us to seek holiness rather than riches and honour, and saith that to repent is better than sacrifice.”
“All these things,” replied Imri, “are such as the meanest of the earth may understand and do. The Gentiles themselves might be followers of thy Prophet thus far. He careth not for the honour of our nation if these be the precepts he gives. When he shall tell thee to worship more strictly, when he shall multiply thy fasts, and bid thee pray oftener, and call on thee for more gifts and sacrifices, come unto me again and I will hear thee. But not until then.”
Imri tuned away in wrath. Sadoc’s bosom also swelled with high thoughts; but remembering the meekness of the Teacher, he spake not again, but sat down to meditate.
After a while, he saw that Imri gazed into the street below. Sadoc also looked, and behold! the Prophet passed by. None was with him but two of his chosen disciples; but Paltiel, the friend of Sadoc, followed behind; for whither the Teacher went, he went also. They passed slowly and silently along, for no man knew him, and the shadows of even had fallen. Sadoc made a sign to Paltiel to tarry, and instantly threw himself at Imri’s feet.
“My father!” he cried, “let my request find favour with thee. Open thy gates to this man, that he may abide this one night. Hear him, and if his words are evil, cast me forth with him for ever. If good, salvation hath come unto thy house.”
Michal, who had drawn near unperceived, also laid hold of the garment of Imri, beseeching him; but he withdrew it from her grasp, and glanced angrily upon them, and turned, and entered the Alijah to pray for mercy on his rebellious children, and for condemnation on the false Prophet and all who should believe on him. Michal fell on her brother’s neck, and they wept together.
“The honour shall not be ours, Sadoc, to welcome the messenger of Jehovah, O that I might spread his couch and set food before him, and hearken to his words in our dwelling!”
“Yet thou didst fear to meet him awhile ago, my sister.”
“Rachel’s first-born had not then died, and I had not heard the wisdom which thou hast since told me.”
“I will hear it again; behold, I go forth even now,” said Sadoc.
“Seek him,” said Michal, “and ask concerning the life in death. If he shall tell thee that the spirit indeed lives while the body decays, I will no longer fear to die; nor will I despair if thou shouldst first depart, my brother!”
They descended to the porch, after Sadoc had prepared himself to go forth. Michal closed the gate when her brother had disappeared in the darkness, and retired to her chamber to meditate and pray.
Jesus of Nazareth had sent away his disciples, and retired alone among the hills. Sadoc dared not approach him this night; but he drew nigh unto the place, that he might see him as he returned to Capernaum. He laid himself down in the mouth of a cave, and slept till the crimson dawn began to break. He rose and worshiped, and immediately climbed the hill to look around. Beneath him was a valley, whence the blue mists were rolling away. Around him were hills, some rocky, others green and fair; for the verdure was renewed by the dews of the night. On the side of one eminence was a grove, where pines waved their dark boughs in the ruddy light, where wild olives spread forth their leafy branches, and the pomegranate hung forth its rich fruits, Thither Sadoc hastened, and while he made for himself a path among the shrubs, their freshness and odour were pleasant to him. There was, in the midst, an open space, where a spring watered the grass. The rose of Jericho flourished here, and the wild bees hummed around the stem on which flickered the beams and shadows of the morning.
Hither had the Prophet retired. Above him spread a terebinth of a thousand years: around his feet clustered the field lilies, which spring and fade in a day. Beholding Sadoc, he stretched forth his arm to invite him to draw nigh. The son of Imri bowed himself, saying,
“The spirit of thy servant is sunk within him, for he knoweth not whether, in death, he shall live again. Our life fadeth even as these flowers. Shall the spirit of the man who planted this tree abide when it hath fallen, and stand for ever in the Paradise of God?”