Sunset wrapped Jerusalem in a pink and golden glow. In the outer courtyard of the great temple, the Court of the Gentiles, pilgrims milled about. The major transactions of the day neared ending.
Outside the door to the Court of the Women, Mother Mary, Father Joseph and the twenty six along with friends and family were gathered. Nearby, men sermonized, others wailed. The bleating of the sacrificial animals for sale in booths along the walls could be heard over everything else. Smoke, the smell of animal excrement and burning flesh saturated the air.
Ruth remembered coming to the temple only once with her parents. They had wanted her and her siblings to experience the faith of their people. They wanted them to witness the rituals, the way some paid homage. Her father told her many times over the years, that she needed to honor the rights of others to approach God in the ways that worked for them, not to insist that the way she believed was the only right way, as was custom.
Everyday during the year since John had been murdered Ruth's heart seemed dead. All that remained were her children and what she was born to do. It wasn't enough. Before, when John was away, she had always known he would return. She contented herself with knowing that they were both doing what they needed to do. Now, she knew no such thing. She was emptiness.
Beside her in the temple stood Simon, the one her brother called Peter. He was grieving for Sara who died a few months after John. Together and alone, that's what she and Simon were. She glanced up at the tall man with dark hair and even features. He was indeed handsome, not that handsome mattered, manly, not that she cared, with well-developed muscles and a kind, intense face. She hoped he could find a way to be happy. She had not.
"You were Sara's closest friend," Simon said, sounding deflated, humbled. "She loved you so. I am grateful Yeshua was able to save her mother, but why did Sara have to die? Why couldn't he heal her, too? She was such a good person. The best."
"Yes, she was. Did her mother go home?"
"Yes, shortly after Sara died. Sara's father came and got her," Simon said. "Do you know what your parents plan to have us do here today?"
"It's a dedication of some kind," Ruth said. "I don't see the point of doing it here. But Father thinks it's important."
"He's usually right. He's a wise man. Father Wisdom--that's what my father always called him. I guess they knew each other when they were kids. Ruth, uh, there are some things Sara wanted you to have. Quite a bunch, actually. I was wondering if the next time you come to Capernaum if you would.... I'm usually back from fishing by midmorning. Once you've decided what you'd like to have, I could help you take the things home."
"Thanks, that would be nice," Ruth said. "It would help me feel closer to her."
"Good." He smiled. It felt odd. Lately he had smiled little.
She was indeed pretty, not that pretty mattered. She was smart, not that he cared. But her eyes, he had always loved the look in them. They caressed him now with kindness. It touched him with comfort, the first he had known since Sara took sick.
"The sacrifices of the day are over," Father Joseph said in a voice loud enough for everyone in the group to hear. "The priests have withdrawn for their evening prayers. The ways they represent, the faith celebrated in this temple, have worked for our people for hundreds of years, bringing stability during times of stress and joy. It's made them feel less helpless during chaos. It's helped them find their connection with God. It's drawn them together as the chosen.
"To be the chosen has been, still is, important to them. It gives those who are part of that group, status. Unfortunately it casts negative judgment on everyone else. What we are introducing is a way that honors all. No one needs to be considered inferior and an infidel. God is multiplicity, not exclusivity."
A crowd was gathering around them. In this place where people came to express their ideas, however strange, this man called Joseph was speaking blasphemy. Whispers broke out.
"Please follow us as we take the next step," Father Joseph said.
He and his wife, hand in hand, led the group into the Court of the Women across the courtyard to the semi-circular steps below the door leading to the Court of the Israelites.
"We stand outside the Nicanor Gate," Mother Mary said, "to make our dedication. Thirty were called for this mission. Two have gone on."
"Two by two," Father Joseph said, "is how we go out from here. Two men and two women in a team."
There were murmurs among the group.
A teenage boy, Thaddeus, spoke up, "Don't you think people will talk?"
James ben Zebedee said, "It will make us subject to ridicule and stoning. If women go with men on a mission, people are likely to think we're running a prostitution ring."
"These pairing have been carefully made," Father Joseph said. "Some of you are already married to someone else in the circle. In these groups there won't be a problem. Each group of four will have at least one married couple."
"So who will take care of the children?" Matthew asked. He had no wife or children. He certainly did not want a bunch of children hanging around. He didn't want to be paired with a woman either. He didn't understand them.
"We're not making hard rules. The pairings can be adjusted," Mother Mary said. "The thing is, to reach everyone we can't just focus on men. The lives of men and women are very different. What a man says will work for him, will not necessarily work for the women in his life. To say what goes for me goes for my wife, or what I believe she will believe, too, is not reasonable, though we have heard this often in the annals of tradition. We, women, have our own minds. We think what we will regardless of what our husbands or fathers command us to think. Alone, amongst ourselves we grumble about men who make unfair demands."
"What we are doing today is about liberation," Father Joseph said, "not another form of servitude."
Glancing around the courtyard Mother Mary and Father Joseph nodded to each other.
"In the time of the beginning there was no form. God could not speak in the winds, for there were no winds. God could not speak in the tides, for there were no tides," Father Joseph said.
"And it came to pass that God was conscious of what was and what was not," Mother Mary said, "a being alone, yet not alone, for God was all. And God said, 'We are one, a singularity, but it is not enough. We are static. To grow, to learn we need to create a way to experience diverse things.' So God divided itself into pieces, millions upon billions upon trillions of pieces, casting itself into the exploding heavens. Things coalesced, things came apart, things came together again, to share what they had learned, over and over again."
"And so," Father Joseph said, "all life, all matter was formed, an experiment by All-That-Is. We are part of that experiment. We are part of the learning, the going out, the coming back together. We are part of God, all of us, everyone of every race, every plant and animal and rock, every great and little thing."
"Blasphemer," a voice from the crowd behind them yelled out.
"In the learning came the development of values. One of them is love," Mother Mary said. "A great coalition of those who believe in love came together upon the celestial realm and formed a group to teach its ways. The one we are part of is known as the Circle of the White Rose. Today we unite in our dedication to its goals."
She raised her eyes toward the heavens. Beauty flowed over and around her, filling soul and body. On the edge of forever she saw Claire and a gathering of others, including her parents, her son--Daniel, Joseph's parents and her personal angels.
"Those who are part of the rose, please step forward," Father Joseph said.
The twenty-six did so.
"I'd like you to file forward two at a time," Father Joseph said, "to take your vows."
"We've already made them, Father," Yeshua said.
"These are of another kind," Father Joseph said.
Anxiety ground into Ruth's heart. It was coming. Whatever it was frightened her.
&nbs
p; Kneeling, Father Joseph said, "Before the almighty power, we bow."
All the group including friends and family kneeled on the brick floor.
"One and universal power, we ask for the blessings of light," Father Joseph said. "We ask to be kept forever a part of the heart. We ask for upliftment beyond the turmoil, so we can see our paths clearly."
Ruth felt a dawning. Gazing up to the sky, she watched the sun-glow disappear.
Mother Mary and Father Joseph stood and faced the group, silently bidding the others to stand.
"I am light, for within me there is no darkness," Mother Mary said. "I am hope, for I am the heart of God. I am strength, for the power of God is within me. I am light, for it walks before me, in and around me. I am love, for nothing else is real. I am equality, for there is no servitude in the halls of God. I am the end, as well as, the beginning."
"If these words set right in your soul, repeat them," Father Joseph said, "taking them into your being as your own."
The twenty-six repeated the words.
Mother Mary said, "Love is. We are dedicated to it. For in love--there can be no hatred, for in love--there can be no harm, for in love--there can be no unhappiness, for in love--all works for a higher purpose. Yeshua, Maria, please come stand before us."
The two rose and faced Mother Mary and Father Joseph.
"Yeshua and Maria, as leaders of the group, you become the first to be consecrated, the first to be blessed," Mother Mary said. "Yeshua, do you agree to this ordination of the heart?"
Yeshua said, "Yes, I do. I dedicate myself to the Circle of the White Rose as part of the peaceful and loving God."
His mother took a garland of fig leaves and placed it on his head.
Mother Mary said. "Maria, do you agree to this ordination of the heart?"
Maria said. "Yes. I dedicate myself to the Circle of the White Rose as part of the peaceful and loving God."
Mother Mary placed a wreath of fig leaves on her daughter-in-law's head.
"God's blessing is upon you both," Father Joseph said. "You are ordained priests after the Order of Melchizedek."
"A woman priest?" came a voice in the background. "This is not of God."
Tension gripped Ruth. They must hurry. Still, it needed to be done according to the high order of the Essenes. Brother Samuel, before his passing, had given them the holy documents. All at once she remembered. She remembered all of it, the things he had taught her, the things she needed to know.
"Ruth, daughter with a good and perfect heart, Simon, rock of belief, come before us,"
Mother Mary said. "Will you join Maria and Yeshua in this holy communion?"
"Yes," the two said.
Momentarily disoriented by the pairing, Ruth stood with Simon.
"Simon, though your heart be full of passion and your mind hot with ideas, you are the heart of the matter. You represent all aspects of faith," Father Joseph said. "Would you say the words?"
"Humbly, willingly," Simon said. "I dedicate myself to the Circle of the White Rose as part of the peaceful and loving God."
"Blessings be upon you," Father Joseph said.
"Ruth," her mother said, "it is time to lay aside that which has held you back--the grief, the longing. You are needed as a go-between with others, you of the good and gentle ways."
"I know, Mother. I will do my best," Ruth said. "I dedicate myself to the Circle of the White Rose as part of the peaceful and loving God."
Mother Mary took garlands of fig leaves and placed one on Ruth's and another on Simon's heads.
"God's blessing is upon you both," Father Joseph said. "You are ordained priests after the order of Melchizedek."
The murmuring of the crowd behind them grew louder.
"The two of you represent the negative and the positive," Father Joseph said. "Not the bad and the good, but the balance of all things."
"God's blessing is upon you both," Mother Mary said.
Tears eased from Ruth's eyes. Again she looked to the heavens. This time she saw Claire and another. She recognized him from a recurring dream. He was Melchizedek, king of Salem, king of peace. Alongside of him was her beloved, John.
Her heart skipped. He was watching her. Watching her. She could do it now. She could.
"Thaddeus and Melanie, come forward," Mother Mary said, smiling at the girl who would soon be a woman.
Thaddeus looked at the girl beside him with honor. She was indeed beautiful. She was indeed kind. He had seen enough of her ways to know he wanted to take her as a wife. He had no family. He was grateful to be part of this one.
"The two of you will go out with Ruth and Simon," Mother Mary said.
The group erupted into murmurings.
James ben Zebedee, spoke up. "But they aren't married."
"Things have a way of working out," Father Joseph said. "Are you ready to say the words of ordination and dedication?"
"We are," Thaddeus and Melanie said, shyly glancing at one another.
"Melanie, you represent the future of womankind. You are strong. You are knowledgeable. You are independent of thought," Mother Mary said. "Like Ruth, you were born under a rising star. Are you ready to grow into this role?"
"Yes, yes, I am," Melanie said. "I dedicate myself to the Circle of the White Rose as part of the peaceful and loving God."
"Blessings be upon you," Mother Mary said.
"Thaddeus," Father Joseph said, "in the few years we have known you, during this time you have worked as my apprentice, you have become part of our family. You represent the future of mankind--the just ways, the honoring of all equally, even those different from ourselves."
Thaddeus beamed.
"Are you ready for the dedication which will become and define your life?" Father Joseph said.
"Gladly," Thaddeus said. "I dedicate myself to the Circle of the White Rose as part of the peaceful and loving God."
Mother Mary took garlands of fig leaves. She placed them on Melanie's and Thaddeus' heads.
"God's blessing is upon you both," Father Joseph said. "You are ordained priests after the Order of Melchizedek."
Thaddeus slipped his hand around Melanie's, grasping it in his own, hidden by the folds of their robes, pleased she did not pull away.
Two by two the pairings were complete. Two by two all were ordained.
At last Father Joseph said, "We are one. We acknowledge this oneness. As lights of God, we go forth to spread liberation through the highest truth we know."
There was a commotion in the yard. Soldiers broke through the doors and rushed across the courtyard toward them.
"He's the one," a loud, aggressive man said, "Joseph of Nazareth and his son, Yeshua. They and their followers have blasphemed against God. Their words will inflame the people against Pilate."
"Seize them," said another voice.
"Seize them, seize them," the crowd chanted.
The soldiers pushed through the crowd, grabbed Father Joseph and Yeshua and shoved Mother Mary and Maria to the floor.
"Run," Father Joseph said. "Live to teach."
Chaos erupted. Everyone scattered. The garlands were trampled into the brick floor.
"This way," Simon whispered to Ruth. "I know a way out."
He had been to the temple with his parents often when he was a lad. While they paid homage, he explored the structure. He knew of tunnels and hidden places, places boys had a way of finding when left on their own.
Ruth glanced at Melanie and Thaddeus. "Follow us."
Terrified, the two teenagers hurried after them toward a far wall, ducking behind pillars as they could. Soldiers clunked across the courtyard, searching. Women screamed. Simon backed up to the wall and inched along it. His companions did the same.
"Join hands," he said.
Moving a few steps at a time, stopping, waiting and moving a few more, he came to the top of a narrow enclosed stairwell. He eased down the first step, the next an
d the next until all four of them were on the stairs. Another half dozen steps and they arrived on a landing, rounded a corner and headed down into darkness. The sounds of chaos became distant.
One more turn of the stairway and they saw a dim light. They reached the base and came upon a long narrow corridor illuminated by a single torch. Simon crept before them, searching. The alcove was there, somewhere. Just where he could not remember. The hall dead-ended forcing a turn to the left. Another torch cast a dim light. Halfway down the hall, on the right, he thought he recognized it.
Behind them around the bend he heard clanking of swords and armor. Picking up his pace he led the little group a few more steps and found an alcove. He pushed in on the first set of bricks. They didn't move. It had been too long. His memory was faulty. He tried another set. The clanking grew. He had to find it fast. He tried another group of bricks lower in the wall. The panel moved in just enough. He crouched and slipped through the opening and pulled Ruth after him. Melanie and Thaddeus followed.
"Push the panel back into place," Simon whispered.
Thaddeus shoved it back until it was even with the rest. Isolated in total darkness they remained still. The clanking of swords and armor came closer, moved on down the hall and died away.
Quietly Simon said, "This tunnel leads to the outside wall. We have to crawl the rest of the way on our hands and knees. It isn't far. Go slow and feel your way. There are bricks sticking out here and there, so be careful of your heads. In some places you will need to scooch on your belly."
Stale, dusty air filled their nostrils. Cobwebs clung to their faces. Hands and feet tangled in their robes. Following the passage for what seemed like forever, they finally reached the end. Simon felt for the coupling in the wall. With a little searching he found the slab of ultra smooth brick, smooth enough to be marble. He pushed on it. A panel moved aside. In moments the four of them crawled out, unkinked themselves and stood on a ledge overlooking the city. It was covered in twilight.
"Are you all right?" Simon asked, brushing himself off.
"Yes," they whispered.
"This ledge leads around the building to the main entrance," Simon said. "We'll have to be careful, but it is wide enough. Once we get that far we should be able to slip away."
"What about the soldiers?" Melanie asked.
"It's getting dark. They may not recognize us," Simon said.
"Do you think the others made it?" Thaddeus said.
"It's hard to know," Ruth said.
"God be with us," Melanie said, sounding more mature than her years. The image of her father was with her. She could almost hear him speaking to her, guiding her. It was calming.
"What now?" Thaddeus said.
"We planned to meet at Mary Be's in Bethany after the ordination," Ruth said. "I think we should stick to that plan."
Chapter 27