They got up and sort of milled around.
“Can we take our wives?” asked James.
“Yes.”
“Or one of the women disciples?” asked Matthew.
“Yes.”
“Can Thomas Two go too?”
“Yes, Thomas Two can go.”
Their questions answered, they milled around some more.
“Biff,” Joshua said. “Will you assign territories for everybody and send them out?”
“Okey-dokey,” I said. “Who wants Samaria? No one? Good. Peter, it’s yours. Give ’em hell. Caesarea? Come on, you weenies, step up…”
Thus were the twelve appointed to their sacred mission.
The next morning seventy of the people who we’d recruited to help feed the multitude came to Joshua when they heard about the appointing of the apostles.
“Why only twelve?” one man asked.
“You all want to cast off what you own, leave your families, and risk persecution and death to spread the good news?” Joshua asked.
“Yes,” they all shouted.
Joshua looked at me as if he himself couldn’t believe it.
“It was a really good sermon,” I said.
“So be it,” said Joshua. “Biff, you and Matthew assign territories. Send no one to his hometown. That doesn’t seem to work very well.”
And so the twelve and the seventy were sent out, and Joshua, Maggie, and I went into Decapolis, which was the territory of Herod’s brother, Philip, and camped and fished and basically hid out. Joshua preached a little, but only to small groups, and although he did heal the sick, he asked them not to tell anyone about the miracles.
After three months hiding in Philip’s territory, word came by boat from across the lake that someone had intervened on Joshua’s behalf with the Pharisees and that the death warrant, which had never really been formal, had been lifted. We went home to Capernaum and waited for the apostles to return. Their enthusiasm had waned some after months in the field.
“It sucks.”
“People are mean.”
“Lepers are creepy.”
Matthew came out of Judea with more news of Joshua’s mysterious benefactor from Jerusalem. “His name is Joseph of Arimathea,” said Matthew. “He’s a wealthy merchant, and he owns ships and vineyards and olive presses. He seems to have the ear of the Pharisees, but he is not one of them. His wealth has given him some influence with the Romans as well. They are considering making him a citizen, I hear.”
“What makes him want to help us?” I asked.
“I talked to him for a long time about the kingdom, and about the Holy Ghost and the rest of Joshua’s message. He believes.” Matthew smiled broadly, obviously proud of his powerful convert. “He wants you to come to his house for dinner, Joshua. In Jerusalem.”
“Are you sure it’s safe for Joshua there?” asked Maggie.
“Joseph has sent this letter guaranteeing Joshua’s safety along with all who accompany him to Jerusalem.” Matthew held out the letter.
Maggie took the scroll and unrolled it. “My name is on this too. And Biff’s.”
“Joseph knew you would be coming, and I told him that Biff sticks to Joshua like a leech.”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean, that you accompany the master wherever he travels,” Matthew added quickly.
“But why me?” Maggie asked.
“Your brother Simon who is called Lazarus, he is very sick. Dying. He’s asked for you. Joseph wanted you to know that you would have safe passage.”
Josh grabbed his satchel and started walking that moment. “Let’s go,” he said. “Peter, you are in charge until I return. Biff, Maggie, we need to make Tiberius before dark. I’m going to see if I can borrow some camels there. Matthew, you come too, you know this Joseph. And Thomas, you come along, I want to talk to you.”
So off we went, into what I was sure were the jaws of a trap.
Along the way Joshua called Thomas to walk beside him. Maggie and I walked behind them only a few paces, so we could hear their conversation. Thomas kept stopping to make sure that Thomas Two could keep up with them.
“They all think I’m mad,” Thomas said. “They laugh at me behind my back. Thomas Two has told me.”
“Thomas, you know I can lay my hands upon you and you will be cured. Thomas Two will no longer speak to you. The others won’t laugh at you.”
Thomas walked along for a while without saying anything, but when he looked back at Joshua I could see tears streaking his cheeks. “If Thomas Two goes away, then I’ll be alone.”
“You won’t be alone. You’ll have me.”
“Not for long. You don’t have long with us.”
“How do you know that?”
“Thomas Two told me.”
“We won’t tell the others quite yet, all right, Thomas?”
“Not if you don’t want me to. But you won’t cure me, will you? You won’t make Thomas Two go away?”
“No,” Joshua said. “We may both need an extra friend soon.” He patted Thomas on the shoulder, then turned to walk on ahead to catch up with Matthew.
“Well, don’t step on him!” Thomas shouted.
“Sorry,” said Joshua.
I looked at Maggie. “Did you hear that?”
She nodded. “You can’t let it happen, Biff. He doesn’t seem to care about his own life, but I do, and you do, and if you let harm come to him I’ll never forgive you.”
“But Maggie, everyone is supposed to be forgiven.”
“Not you. Not if something happens to Josh.”
“So be it. So, hey, once Joshua heals your brother, you want to go do something, get some pomegranate juice, or a falafel, or get married or something?”
She stopped in her tracks, so I stopped too. “Are you ever paying attention to anything that goes on around you?”
“I’m sorry, I was overcome by faith there for a moment. What did you say?”
When we got to Bethany, Martha was waiting for us in the street in front of Simon’s house. She went right to Joshua and he held out his arms to embrace her, but when she got to him she pushed him away. “My brother is dead,” she said. “Where were you?”
“I came as soon as I heard.”
Maggie went to Martha and held her as they both cried. The rest of us stood around feeling awkward. The two old blind guys, Crustus and Abel, whom Joshua had once healed, came over from across the street.
“Dead, dead and buried four days,” said Crustus. “He turned a sort of chartreuse at the end.”
“Emerald, it was emerald, not chartreuse,” said Abel.
“My friend Simon truly sleeps, then,” Joshua said.
Thomas came up and put his hand on Joshua’s shoulder. “No, master, he’s dead. Thomas Two thinks it may have been a hairball. Simon was a leopard, you know?”
I couldn’t stand it. “He was a LEPER, you idiot! Not a leopard.”
“Well, he IS dead!” shouted Thomas back. “Not sleeping.”
“Joshua was being figurative, he knows he’s dead.”
“Do you guys think you could be just a little more insensitive?” said Matthew, pointing to the weeping sisters.
“Look, tax collector, when I want your two shekels I’ll ask—”
“Where is he?” Joshua asked, his voice booming over the sobs and protests.
Martha pushed out of her sister’s embrace and looked at Joshua. “He bought a tomb in Kidron,” said Martha.
“Take me there, I need to wake my friend.”
“Dead,” said Thomas. “Dead, dead, dead.”
There was a sparkle of hope amid the tears in Martha’s eyes. “Wake him?”
“Dead as a doornail. Dead as Moses. Mmmph…” Matthew clamped his hand over Thomas’s mouth, which saved me having to render the twin unconscious with a brick.
“You believe that Simon will rise from the dead, don’t you?” asked Joshua.
“In the end, when the kingdom comes, and everyone is raised, yes, I believe.”
“Do you believe I am who I say I am?”
“Of course.”
“Then show me where my friend lies sleeping.”
Martha moved like a sleepwalker, her exhaustion and grief driven back just enough for her to lead us up the road to the Mount of Olives and down into the Kidron Valley. Maggie had been deeply shaken by the news of her brother’s death as well, so Thomas and Matthew helped her along while I walked with Joshua.