CHAPTER XII
A very short time after these events there came two soldiers to the Jordan, not to have the water poured over their heads, but to arrest the desert preacher and take him to Jerusalem to Herod. Herod received him politely, and said: "I have summoned you here because I am told that you are the preacher."
"They call me preacher and Baptist."
"I want to hear you. And, indeed, you must refute what your enemies say against you."
"If it was only my enemies, it would be easy to refute them."
"They say that you insult my royal house, that you say the prince lives in incest with his brother's wife. Did you say that?"
"I do not deny it."
"You have come to withdraw it?"
"Sire," said the prophet, "I have come to repeat it. You are living in incest with your brother's wife. Know that the day of reckoning is at hand. It will come with its mercy, and it will come with its justice. Put away this woman."
Herod grew white with rage that a man of the people should dare to speak thus to him. Royal ears cannot endure such a thing, so he put the preacher in prison.
But the next night the prince had a bad dream. From the battlements he saw the city fall stone by stone into the abyss; he saw flames break out in the palace and temple, and the sound of infinite wailing rang through the air. When he awoke the words came into his mind: You who stone the prophets! and he determined to set the preacher free.
It was now the time when Herod should celebrate his birthday. Although Oriental wisdom advised that a birthday should be celebrated with mourning, a prince had no reason for so doing. Herod gave a banquet in honour of the day, and invited all the most important people in the province in order that while enjoying themselves they might have the opportunity of doing homage to him. He enjoyed himself royally, for Herodias, his brother's wife, was present, and her daughter, who was as lovely as her mother. She danced before him a series of dances which showed her beautiful figure, set off by the flowing white gown confined at the waist with a girdle of gold, to every advantage. Intoxicated by the feast and inflamed by the girl's beauty, the prince approached her, put his arm, from which the purple cloak had fallen back so that it was bare, round her warm neck, and held a goblet of wine to her lips. She smiled, did not drink, but said: "My lord and king! If I drank now from your goblet, you would drink at my lips. Those roses belong to my bridegroom."
"Who is the man who dares to be more fortunate than a king?" asked Herod.
"I do not yet know him," whispered the girl. "He is the man who shall give me the rarest bridal gift."
"And if it was Herod?"
The girl raised her almond eyes to the prince and said nothing. He almost lost his head with the sweetness of the shining eyes. "You are an enchanting witch, you!" he whispered. "Desire of me what you will."
The beauty had been primed by her mother, who wished to be revenged on John, whose prophecies might tear her from her kingly lover. The daughter breathed the words: "A dish for your table, O king!"
"A dish of meat? Speak more plainly."
"Let your bridal gift be a dish of rare meat on a golden charger."
"I do not understand what you want."
"The head of the Baptist."
The king understood, turned aside, and said: "Horror, thy name is woman!"
Then she wept and murmured between her sobs: "I knew it. A woman is nothing to you but a flower of the field. You cut it down so that it turns to hay. And hay is for asses. You care more for the man who has mortally insulted yourself and my mother than you do for me."
"Indeed, I do not! If he deserves death, you shall have your desire."
"When does he whom the king loves deserve death?" groaned the girl, and sank into a swoon. He lifted her up, drew her to his breast, and what her words could not accomplish the embrace did—it cost the Baptist his life.
The banquet was most sumptuous. The most delicious viands, gathered from every quarter, and sparkling wines graced the table. Harp players stood by the marble pillars, and sang praises to the king. Herod, a garland of red roses round his head, sat between the two women. He drank freely of the wine, and so hurriedly that the liquid dripped from his long, thin beard. Was he afraid of the last course? It appeared at midnight. It was covered with a white cloth, and only the beautifully-chased edge of the charger was visible. Herod shuddered and signed that the dish should be placed before the young woman who sat on his left. She hastily pulled off the cloth, and behold! a man's head; the black hair and beard, steeped in the blood that ran from the neck, lay in the charger. It stared with open eyes at the woman who, filled with voluptuous horror, leaned closely against the prince. Then the mouth of the head opened and spoke the words: "The Kingdom of God is near at hand!"
Horror and confusion filled the banqueting hall. "Who dared to say that?" shouted several voices. "'Twas the head of the prophet who prophesies even in death!"
Then a tumult arose in the palace, for this was the most terrible horror that the golden halls had ever seen. Long-restrained fury suddenly burst forth—the town was in flames, the men of Jerusalem rioted. The women were torn from Herod's side, and flung into the streets to the mercy of the mob. The prince was forced to fly. The story goes that in his flight he fell into the hands of the Arab king, who avenged his despised daughter in a terrible manner. Thus were godless hands stretched forth from Herod's house against him who bore witness to the coming One.
After the act of baptism was accomplished, Jesus wandered for a long, long while—indeed, he paid no heed to time—along the banks of Jordan. Then he climbed the rocks, and when in the twilight he came to himself again and looked about, he saw that he was in the wilderness. The revelation vouchsafed at his baptism had snatched him from the earth. In that mysterious vision he had opened to him the new path which he had chosen to follow. What eternal peace surrounded him. Yet he was not alone among the barren rocks; never in his life had he been less lonely than here in the dim terrors of the wilderness. A deep silence prevailed. The stars in the sky sparkled and sparkled, and the longer he gazed at them the more ardently they seemed to burn. Gradually they seemed to sink downwards, and to become suns, while fresh legions pressed ever forward from the background, flying down unceasingly, the large and the small and the smallest, with new ones ever welling up from space—an inexhaustible source of heavenly light.
Jesus stood up erect. And when he lifted up his face it seemed as if his eye was the nucleus of all light.
So he forgot the world and remained in the wilderness. Each day he penetrated deeper into it, past abysses and roaring beasts. The stones tore his feet, but he marked it not; snakes stung his heels, but he noticed it not. Whence did he obtain nourishment? What cleft in the rocks afforded him shelter?—that is immaterial to him who lives in God. Once he had regarded the world and its powers as hard taskmasters, and now they seemed to him to be as nothing, for in him and with him was eternal strength. The old traditional Jehovah of Jewish hearts was no more; his was the all-embracing One, who carried the heavens and the earth in his hand, who called to the children of men: Return! and who stooped down to every seedling in order to awaken it. He himself became conscious of God—and after that, what could befall him?
One day he descended between the rocky stones to the coast of the Dead Sea that lay dark and still, little foam-tipped waves breaking on the shore. The expanse of water was lost in darkness in the distance, and stretched away heavy and lifeless. Cleft blocks of stone were scattered along the beach, and their tops glowed as red as iron in the forge. It was the hour of sunset. The towering stones stood like giant torches, and the bright colour was reflected on the bare pebbles on which the water lapped. For many thousands of years the fine yellow sand had drifted down from the walls of rock, and lay over the wide sloping plains of the shore. It was like dry, light "stone-snow," and Jesus, who strode over it, left his footprints in it. The next gust of wind disturbed it, the "stone-snow" was whirled about, and the dark stones were laid bare. Men are engulfed in those sand-fields, which, broken by blocks of stone, stretch away into infinity. Witness the bones which may be seen here and there, remains of dead beasts, and also legs and skulls of men who perished as hermits, or became the prey of lions. Such skulls with their grinning teeth, warned the traveller to turn back as he valued his life. Here is death! Jesus laid his hands over his breast. Here is life! The greater the loneliness, the more keenly may the nearness of God be realised.
Jesus preferred the rocky heights to the plain. He could see the wide expanse of the sky, and the clouds which wandered over its face and then disappeared like nations of nomads.
One day, in such a spot, he met an Arab chief. He was of gigantic stature, dressed in the dark cloak of the Bedouins, with a wild, grey beard, and a snub nose in a bony face. Beneath bushy eyebrows were a pair of unsteady eyes. His belt was full of weapons, his head was adorned with an iron band which kept his wild hair in some sort of order. The man looked at the young hermit not unkindly and called him a worm who should pray that he might be mercifully trodden under foot. He must either swear allegiance to the desert chief, or be burned up by the hot stones.
Jesus scarcely heeded the impertinent speech. He only saw in the stranger a man on whom he would like to bestow all the happiness that was triumphant in his soul. So full of love was he that he could not bear it alone. And he said: "I am no worm to be trodden under foot. I am that Son of Man who brings you the new kingdom."
"Ah! the Messiah! Jesus of Nazareth, are you not? I have heard of you. Where are your soldiers?"
"I shall not conquer with the sword, but with the spirit."
The Arab shook his head mockingly. "Who will conquer with the spirit! Well, I won't play the scoffer. You are an orator, and that's something. Listen, son of man; I like you. I, too, desire the new kingdom; let us go together."
And Jesus replied: "Whoever wishes can go with me. I go with no one."
"My friend, don't you know me?" asked the stranger. "I am Barabbas, king of the desert. Three thousand Arabs obey my behests. Look down into the valley. There is the key to the kingdom of the Messiah."
What the chief called the key to the kingdom of the Messiah was an army which, scattered over the plain, resembled a dark spot spreading out in the desert, as busy and animated as an ant-hill. The chief pointed down to it and said: "Look, there is my weapon. But I shall not conquer with that weapon, nor will you conquer with your words. For my weapons lack words, and your words lack weapons. I need the prophet and you the army. Warrior and orator allied, we shall take Jerusalem. I have made a mistake. For many years it has been my illusion that all strength lay in the body. And so I have cared for their bodies, fed and nourished them that they might become strong. But instead of becoming strong and daring, they have become indolent and cowardly. And now that I wish to use this army to free Judaea from the yoke of the Romans, they laugh in my face and answer me with words I once taught them. We have only this life, they cry, and we will not risk it any more. And when I ask, 'Not even for freedom?' they reply, 'Not even for freedom, because what is the use of freedom to us if we are slain.' Indolent beasts! they lack enthusiasm. And now I find you. You are a master of oratory. You say that you will conquer with the spirit. Come with me! Descend into the valley and inspire them with ardour. The legions are ours, our weapons are of perfect temper, nothing is wanting but fire, and that you have. The king must be allied with the zealot, otherwise the kingdom cannot be conquered. Come down with me. Tell them that you are the prophet. Incite them against Jerusalem, and exclaim: 'It is God's will!' If only fire can be made to burn within them, they will march like the very devil, overcome the foreigners, and you will instruct them in Solomon's Temple about the Messiah. You can tell them that he is coming, or that you yourself are he, just as you please. Then, according to your desire, you can establish your kingdom, and all the glory of the world will lie at your feet as at those of a god. Come, prophet, you give me the word, and I'll give you the sword!"
"Begone, you tempter of hell!" exclaimed Jesus and his eye shot forth a ray of light that the other could not bear.
And then Jesus was once more alone among the rocks, under the open sky.
It was under the sacred sky of the desert where his Father came down to him that his spirit became quite free—his heart more animated, glowing with love. And thus was Jesus perfected. Leaving the desert, he then sought out the fertile land; he sought out men.
His earthly task stood clear and fixed before him.