The fact was, he was not a Jew. The Israelites would never accept him, a Roman, into their sanctum. He could never obey all the Laws, because they would not let him. How, then, was he to gain his place in Paradise? But at the same time, he loved the one God, Jehovah, with all of his heart. He wanted to serve him, he wanted to be counted as one of his children. Perhaps he was wrong to expect the messiah, the King of the Jews, to be able to intervene for him; perhaps popular opinion was correct, and the true messiah would be a great warrior to wage battle against Rome. But just maybe he was a teacher instead, and maybe the lessons this Jesus taught were true–maybe it was the love in a man’s heart that counted with the Lord, not the number of sacrifices he made or how the Sanhedrin viewed him.
How was it that neither wife nor son realized how crucially they needed something to bridge the gap between Jew and Gentile, to tear down that boundary, and to make them all equally clean before God? But Ester clung to the traditional interpretation of the Law, and Jason refused to acknowledge them at all. Of his household, only his slaves were willing to accept his word that this man deserved some attention. That brought a melancholy sigh to his lips on more than one occasion during that month that he remained silent about the topic festering within his chest.
But then he learned that Jesus of Nazareth was near again.
That night at dinner, Cleopas again waited until the dessert had been brought out before speaking his mind. Ester sat, smiling at Jason over something, her face beginning to age, but still more beautiful than any other in his eyes. Her expression was soft, as it so often was, and he knew that if he gave the word, she would obey him whether she agreed or not. Jason, on the other hand, sat even now in a pose that spoke of arrogance and independence. There would be no leading his son where he did not wish to go. From there, his gaze flicked to Andrew, standing tall and still and awaiting a movement to tell him where he was next needed. Andrew served with his whole heart and trusted him with his whole heart, as well, but would otherwise take no interest in the subject. And Abigail, mirroring Andrew in pose. She stood nearer Jason than Ester now, but it was still her mistress that she kept her eyes trained on. She, too, trusted him with a blindness that his family did not. But behind that quiet mask, he knew she had an inquisitive mind that would at once force her to question these things herself and make her hesitant to accept any answer.
Realizing he was on his own in this desire, he cleared his throat. Best to keep his words straightforward. “Jesus is teaching a few miles outside the city. Tomorrow at first light, we will journey to hear him. We will stay tomorrow night with my relative, Drusus, and return the following day.”
The clatter of utensils against dishes stilled, and he could feel four sets of eyes on him.
“Very well,” Ester said after a moment’s hesitation. He knew she did not like Drusus, a third cousin of his who had moved to Israel a decade ago, where he served as a physician. She returned studiously to the food before her.
Jason mirrored Cleopas’s calm. “I cannot, Father. I have the watch tomorrow night.”
Cleopas wanted to tell him to request it off but remembered that another centurion had been ill and would likely not have returned to duty by his scheduled shift the next night; they would need Jason. So he only nodded. He then looked at the slaves. “You will go, too. Go inform Dinah and Simon that they will also journey with us. I wish my entire house to hear what this man has to say.”
“Abigail will stay with me.” Jason’s smile looked forced when Ester’s gaze flew to him. “I am sorry, Mother, but if Dinah is gone, there will be no one else to get my meals.”
Cleopas knew he was right, but still he had to sigh in dissatisfaction. He would have liked to have Abigail form opinions that he could discuss with her. “Very well. Everyone else should be ready to leave first thing in the morning. I have already informed the general of my absence.”
*
Andrew did his best to tease and cajole Abigail into smiles as they packed for the master and mistress, but then it struck him. In the middle of a laugh, he sobered. His hands halted in their tasks. “I do not like it.”
Abigail looked at him with curiosity. “You do not like what? The trip?”
“I do not like that you are staying here with him.”
“Come, my friend.” She carefully folded one of Ester’s tunics. “Why does it bother you any more than any other day would? I will be doing nothing but my usual chores.”
“Every day bothers me. I hate to think of you in his arms.” He saw her blush at his words and pursed his lips. “I am sorry to embarrass you, my love, but it is the truth. I would have liked a day’s reprieve from the torment your master puts me through.”
He shook his head and went back to packing. “He goads me deliberately. I fear that his need to keep you from me is counteracting his need to rebel against his father’s subtle hints that marriage would be best.” He stopped working again and turned to face her.
Abigail was still looking at him, her gaiety gone and replaced with sympathy. “I am sorry, Andrew.”
“It is not of your doing.” Andrew sighed. “I know not why I expected otherwise. Why should I assume that he will lose interest in what I desire wholeheartedly? Is it wrong of me to hope that he does not see in you all that you are worth?”