Roger Curtis - Lights in a Western Sky

‘Think about it, Thomas.’

‘I will.’

As soon as the sound of Thomas’ footsteps on the wooden stairs ceased there was a knock at the door and Mary entered.

‘Has he gone?’

‘Did he upset you?’

‘I didn’t speak to him, Father.’

‘And you didn’t look at him either. I saw you averting your eyes. It’s our custom to welcome visitors, Mary, not shy away from them.’

‘I’ll try… next time.’

‘I know you will. Now, draw up that chair.’

‘I really will, Father.’

She sat and James shifted his own chair to face her.

‘Mary, you remember Paul, the envoy who was here last week.’

‘No… oh, yes.’

‘A good man, and zealous in our faith. The resurrection of my brother – your master – dominates his thinking in ways that are not always easy to understand. Much more so than the message that Jesus preached within the Jewish faith.’

‘I’m sure you’re right, Father.’

‘The point is, Mary, that Paul set me thinking about things I’d shut out of my mind. You told me once about certain… events. Would it trouble you greatly if I asked the same questions again?’

‘If it pleases you.’

‘So, let’s go back twelve years, to when your master died. I remember we established that you, Mary his mother, the other Mary and Salome were all present when he was taken from the cross.’

‘We were there all afternoon.’

‘Was Simon Peter there?’

‘No.’

‘So who took Jesus from the cross?’

‘Roman soldiers. They left him on the ground.’

‘And no-one did anything?’

‘They wouldn’t let us near.’

‘Us?’

‘The women… and John.’

‘And then?’

‘Men came.’

‘Who?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘How many?’

‘Two… no, three.’

‘You’re uncertain?’

‘One was telling the others what to do.’

‘What time was this?’

‘It was getting dark.’

‘But you could still see?’

‘Just.’

‘And then?’

‘They carried him to the tomb in the olive trees.’

‘The same that we’ve seen many times when we’ve walked there together.’

‘Yes.’

‘And they closed the tomb?’

‘It was dark… but I think so.’

‘Were the others still there?’

‘No. Just me. John had brought Jesus’ mother back here.’

‘To this house?’

‘Yes.’

‘And Simon Peter?’

‘When I got back he was sitting there, where you are. Scared, he was. He told me to go. John said I could stay. I told them what I’d seen.’

‘And the following day… the Sabbath?’

‘Everyone just moped around. Then we brought things for his body. It wasn’t allowed, but we did. Next morning we took them there.’

‘We?’

‘His mother and me. But I got there first. The tomb was open, so I went in. There was someone there, holding up the shroud to fold it.’

‘Did this person speak to you?’

‘He said Jesus had gone from there.’ Mary’s voice was beginning to waver and James gripped her trembling hand. ‘But he had Jesus’ voice,’ she continued, ‘and looked like him, even in the darkness. I tried to touch him, but he pulled away, and then I knew it wasn’t him. I was so frightened I ran back here.’

‘And Mary, his mother?’

‘She didn’t dare go inside.’

‘What did the others do when you got back?’

‘John rushed out like a madman to go there. Simon Peter followed. When they got back they said it wasn’t Jesus, but then thought it must have been, because that’s what he said he would do.’

‘Which was?’

‘Come back from the dead.’

‘Now, Mary, I want you to think very carefully. We know from Simon Peter that the Twelve expected something like this to happen, and that when it did it would herald the coming of the kingdom of God – which I’m sure one day will happen. But when Jesus spoke to you before… privately I mean… did you expect… the same?’

‘I’m… not sure. I don’t know that he knew himself. He said he was following God’s will, and was in God’s hands.’

‘God having the final say?’

‘He was God’s servant – though I never heard him say that to the others.’

James muttered under his breath, ‘I truly wish Paul could have heard what you’ve just said. And in the days… weeks… that followed, did you experience anything… well… unusual?’

‘I heard rumours. But I was no longer with the Twelve.’

‘They excluded you?’

There was resentment in Mary’s voice. ‘They said I was… unclean.’

‘And John?’

‘He kept apart. But we all worshipped in the Temple together.’

‘And then John left Jerusalem for Ephesus, taking our mother with him…’

‘That’s when you came.’

‘You have remembered well, Mary. I’m grateful.’ He rose and helped her from her chair. ‘Now, for our visitor this evening I’ve arranged for one or two special dishes to be delivered here. Will you serve them… and then join us?’

‘Thank you, Father.’

That same evening Mary drew back the drapes that separated James’ cell from the room in which Jesus had held his last supper. In the distance the lights of the city were becoming visible, but the summit of Golgotha could still be seen in the fading sunlight. James and Thomas entered and moved instinctively to the portico.

‘The city is beautiful,’ Thomas said. ‘What a delight, James. But don’t such pleasures conflict with your ascetic life-style?’

‘I sincerely hope you’re teasing me. Now, Thomas. I have permitted us a little extravagance this evening – I thought it might facilitate our discourse. I have to admit I’m quite looking forward to it.’

‘Mm. Jesus once said to me, that brother of ours – James – there’s purpose in everything he does.’

‘Really? It must be a family trait then. Now, sit you down.’ James directed Thomas to a place exactly at the centre of the table, facing the city – and the summit of Golgotha. Thomas, realising the implication that this might have been Jesus’ place at the Passover meal – as James intended – was uneasy.

James said, ‘Why do you hesitate?’

‘I think you know. Why here?’

James appeared amused. ‘Only because I thought that – with you looking so like our brother – it might help to suggest lines of thought so far neglected. You can move, but for a moment stay as you are. Who knows, for you too it may be an insightful experience. In a while Mary will bring us our food. Then you can move if you want to.’

‘Is it coincidence that I can see Golgotha? Where we were this morning?’

‘No. No coincidence. I thought it might focus our minds on what we saw there. As I believe it once focused his, our brother’s.’

‘The summit is bare.’

‘But if you look hard you can see the cluster of olives near the tomb. There, down to the left. Tell me, what were your first thoughts – on seeing it again?’

‘That I’d been made to confront something I’d chosen never again to see.’

‘Can you explain that?’

‘No. Not yet.’

‘Try.’

‘Very well then.’ Thomas drew breath. ‘When I saw it – days after the crucifixion – there were many others there. It hadn’t yet been sealed off, you see. Someone had put a folded linen cloth where they thought his head had rested. But there was no feeling of… expectation.’

‘That’s about how it was for me.’

‘I remember going outside to cry.’

‘As did many others, including myself.’

‘As a brother I should have known him better.’

For the first time James showed hostility towards Thomas. ‘No. I think you knew him well enough.’