When Jesus Wept

Part Three


Then the LORD was jealous for his land

and took pity on his people….

The trees are bearing their fruit;

the fig tree and the vine yield their riches….

I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten.

JOEL 2:18, 22B, 25A





Chapter 17



The beheading of John the Baptizer was proof that Herod Antipas feared his wife more than he feared God. Like Ahab and Jezebel, the two brought judgment on the land just as John had warned. It was a difficult year for the righteous and the unrighteous together.

First, news of the approaching plague came in the heat of high summer. A hard-riding messenger was sent to us from our sister Mary in Magdala. Covered with the dust of his journey, he arrived before sunrise. His horse was lathered and near collapse.

“Open the gates! I bring urgent news from the Galil! Call Master Lazarus!”

I was already awake when Martha knocked on the door of my bedchamber. “Brother! A rider comes from Mary! Bad news, I fear!”

I dressed quickly and hurried to the courtyard.

Martha was beside the fountain. “Perhaps Mary is ill.”

A single locust buzzed into the courtyard and fell to the stone floor at Martha’s feet. She gasped and jumped to the side. I glanced into the fountain and scooped out three dead insects. The largest was half the size of my index finger.

I examined them in my palm. “For several days our vineyard workers have been killing locusts. Frying them for supper.

A delicacy. This time of year there are always a few stray locusts from the desert. Never so many that they can do harm.”

Martha frowned. “Cook is from Ethiopia. She saw such plagues with her own eyes. She told me of the famine and misery that followed.”

I hurried toward the stable where the rider waited. Remembering stories of biblical plagues, I reasoned that the sins of Herod and his wife could well bring a heavenly judgment on the land.

Samson and Patrick and two dozen workers gathered around me as I read Mary’s warning aloud.

Greetings, my brother and sister,

I send this letter in hopes you may devise a plan to save your vines. I know harvest is near, yet still the grapes cannot be ripe enough to pick. Judgment comes from the north. Swarms of locusts, in clouds so dense that they darken the sun, are flying south. Do what you can to save your vines. In hopes you are well, your sister, Mary.

The rider sat on a heap of hay and filled his cheeks with bread. “They’re coming, for certain. They’ll eat every green leaf and shoot by the time they’re done. A swarm in Syria, miles wide.”

I asked the exhausted servant, “And Galilee?”

“Thousands north of the sea. Landed upon the grazing land, and when they flew away there was not one blade of grass left. Everything. Down to the bare dirt. Vineyards destroyed. Your sister says if you act now, you are a clever fellow and may have time to prepare.”

I looked to Samson for wisdom. The old man’s face was grim. He inclined his head toward Patrick.

“I set Patrick onto this last week when the very first rumor came from Tyre. Aye. The lad’s got something to say, if you don’t mind, sir.”

Patrick cleared his throat. “I saw such a plague come when I served with the Roman army in Egypt. They stripped every tree and flower. Destroyed every crop before they left. Crawled into the beds of the mighty and tormented the poor. Drove the livestock mad. Fell into the water and the children’s milk. Ate the fodder for the cattle. Stripped the vineyards clean. Leaving nothing behind but hunger, sir.”

“What is to be done?” I spread my hands wide.

Samson spoke up. “Me and the lad have been thinking on this, sir. In case the rumor’s true. There may be a way to save some vineyards and possibly a portion of the fig crop.”

Patrick agreed. “The vines, yes. Partly. The orchards will be more difficult.”

“If you can help us do this, Patrick, you will be well rewarded.”

He tucked his chin. “I will do this for the good of fighting such a mindless, faceless enemy, sir. But since you offer, I will ask one reward, sir.”

“Name it.”

“My freedom.”

“Done!”

He continued. “And not just myself, sir, but the girl Adrianna, Samson’s adopted daughter. She is sixteen years old thereabouts. As near as she can figure. Old enough to marry. I’d like her as a wife. And her freedom too.”

Samson nodded his approval.

It was an offer I accepted gladly. I clapped hands with Patrick in a bargain. “Before the Lord God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, you shall be a free man.”

“For such a prize I’ll do all I am able.”

Samson seemed pleased. “Patrick has fought these flying devils before. God has sent him to you to save what can be saved.”

The Galilean messenger warned, “Unless there is a miracle, you have perhaps three days before the swarm overshadows Judea.”

With a walking stick, Patrick etched our battle plan in the dirt. “We must cut firebreaks between the vines. We must sacrifice some. What you choose, we will attempt to save.”

“How do we decide between them?” I looked to Samson.

The old man replied, “The hoppers will ride on the wind. The prevailing wind. From the north.”

I considered the logic of our situation. “The decision is simple, then. The vineyard on the northwest hill faces the wind. It must be sacrificed. Those vines produce more grapes, as you have said, but weaker … less quality.”

Samson nodded. “A wise choice. We concentrate on saving the best first. Then, if there is time, perhaps the others.”

I caught the vision. “Then the Faithful vines on the south hill.”

Patrick agreed. “Yes. We erect tall poles at both ends of the vine rows. At the top of the hill, dividing north from south. Suspend palm fronds, coated with pitch, upon the posts.”

Samson scratched the ears of his goats. “You’ll need to hire more laborers.”

Martha, who had been pale and silent through it all, at last said, “Three days. Is that enough time?”

Patrick nodded. “Just. If we begin this instant.”

Her chin jutted in determination. “We must do our best.”

Samson concurred. “We must focus on vineyards. Harvest the figs that are ripe today. All else must be let go.”

Patrick agreed. “Locusts can eat their weight in foliage in one day. When the monsters land on your pastures and begin to feast, we must set fire to the fields.”

I considered the loss of grazing land in Galilee and Judea alone. What would that mean to the livestock in the coming year?

Martha was somber. “The women can help.”

Patrick instructed, “Every hand, man, woman, and child must cut and gather palm fronds. And coat them with pitch.” He turned toward Martha. “The men must be fed and cared for.”

Martha took up the challenge. “Feed an army? This I can do.”

Samson tugged his beard in deep thought. Raising his eyes heavenward, he said, “We must pray as we work. Hell has opened and spewed forth destruction.”



Samson set two dozen men at work, cutting a firebreak between Faithful Vineyard and the north vines. They started at the top of the rocky hill, stripping away branches to separate that which we would fight to save and that which we would give over to the evil.

I knew the fig groves could ultimately survive the locusts and severe pruning. Samson marked the best trees. Fruit had ripened on the sunny west side. Three teams of two men each began harvesting ripe figs, placing them in clay jars, and leaving what was not ripe. Others followed with pruning hooks to hack off leaves and limbs and unripe fruit for fodder to feed my flocks.

Oxen dragged the dead wood into strategic piles heaped up and prepared for the torch.

Patrick began construction of the frameworks that would support our shield against the enemy.

While I saddled my horse, Martha organized the feeding of our workers.

I rode to the village. In the marketplace, news had already spread about the scourge that was descending upon all Israel. By noon I had hired seventy-two strong men and sent them to the estate, promising each a denarius for a day’s work.

Speculation about the cause of the scourge had begun. “God’s judgment upon Herod for the murder of John the Baptizer.”

“Aye. That’s it. The Baptizer lived on locusts and honey, they say. So the locusts are sent for revenge.” In Galilee the fields of Herod Antipas had already been devoured, but the vineyards of many righteous had also been consumed.

“Herod and the Romans will be after stealing any crops that are saved when their own are gone. Wish the Almighty would just smite the wicked for their crimes and not let all of us suffer ill.”

Though I understood their feelings, I knew the Lord had given us sound reasoning and ways to defeat such a plague. I said, “Come to help only if you have faith strong enough to stand and fight.”

When I returned home, I brought with me an army preparing for battle.