Johann Quisumbing

An Adventure Story of Yeshua bar Yosef by JQuisumbing

The pre-morning air was still fairly cold even when the hillsides were showing signs of early Spring. Yeshua snuck out of the house of Rivkah, Shimon’s mother-in-law. Shimon and others were still asleep. There were a few folks already up and about the city of Capernaum. He headed for the west gate of the city. 

As Sepphoris is the administrative capital of Galilee, Capernaum is the mercantile center of the region. In its earlier days, it was a fishing hamlet with a name that meant ‘village of comfort’. It had since grown into a walled-in town. Because this city is located on the ancient Kings’ road¹, the Romans established it as the customs station for the region as well as a garrison for its officers and their families and an administrative center. They and other gentile populations mostly inhabit a small sector of the northern part of the city. The rest were mostly occupied by Jews, Arabs and a very few Samaritans here and there. 

During the winter period, Yeshua had explored every inch of the city. It was not as large as the capital city in the valley near his home. And compared to the metropolis down south, Capernaum would not even be considered a city. He had made a rapport with the people offering his services as a mason or carpenter, offering help where he could. He also gained a reputation of being an oddity among the populace including among the Roman authorities. Two weeks before, he had aided the Praetor² when his chariot skidded on some ice and went into the ditch breaking a wheel and axle. Yeshua repaired it for no charge. There had also been strange reports of unexplained healings being circulated among the inhabitants and somehow, though unconfirmed, the wandering rabbi from Nazareth was involved. 

By the time the sun had reached its zenith, Yeshua was about a mile into the Gennesaret valley. He sat on a rock under a walnut tree. From his cloth bag, he pulled out some hard crusted bread and munched on it while observing the slow traffic of people on the road that went from Capernaum to Magdala. He observed a cluster of folks coming into view about a half a mile away, coming from Magdala. As they came closer, his focus was not exactly on them but on a lone figure about twenty paces behind them. After they passed his position, he had a better look at the loner.

He seemed to be his age and just a little bit taller. Unlike most Galilean males, he had no beard and his hair was cropped short. By his features and the long robe he wore, he could pass as a citizen of any of the Decapolis cities. However, to Yeshua, his skin tone and facial features do speak loudly as being more like himself. They could almost be brothers. By the way his head kept turning away from those who passed him by, it was clear that he was afraid of being recognized. Yeshua was amused.

When the man was about to walk right by him, Yeshua called out, “I do hope you know that you don’t really look like a Gentile.”

His head snapped up in surprise, while his right hand slipped behind him where no doubt there was a hidden weapon. 

“Stay your hand, Shimon of Cana,” Yeshua said calmly. “Or may I call you, Sy?”

For a few moments, Sy looked at him warily. Then he took a few steps closer and hissed angrily, “How do you know me?”

Yeshua smiled a smile that made him relax. “I know enough that when you left Jotapata, you have not eaten since. Come. Sit and share my meal.”

He broke the loaf that he produced from his sack, and gave him half. Then, out came some aromatic cheese that was wrapped in cloth, walnuts from the tree and a wineskin that was hanging on a tree limb. 

As he shaved some cheese onto Sy’s bread, he said, “You are wondering whether I followed you from that mountain stronghold on the hills near your former home. I have not. In fact, I have never set foot in that place. But I do know that some years ago, you went there seeking solutions.”

“How… How did you know about…? Who are you?”

“Yeshua of Nazareth.”

 “I have heard rumors of you. What do you want of me?”

“Your zeal, Sy. I need that passion of yours that boils over when it comes to setting the people free.” 

“I am already employed for a task.”

“Oh yes, infiltrating the Roman magistrate to discover the new Governor’s itinerary through Galilee.”

“How do you know this?” he asked, standing in frustration and anger.

“Peace, Sy,” Yeshua amusedly said. “This will be revealed in a moment. For now, be at peace that your comrades are safe from betrayal.” Sy sat back down. “And again, for now, accept the fact that I know much about you and that is why I am approaching you to abandon your venture and follow me.”

“No! This is not possible. I am expected to complete…”

“At this very moment, the elders of Jotapata are reading a report that their plan to insert you as a spy was thwarted by an ingenious centurion who educatedly surmised a plan like this, including, may I add, implanting a Zealot disguised as a Gentile amongst them. As soon as you step into the magistrate, you would have been apprehended. I’m afraid that your comrades already consider you as a casualty for the cause.”

“How could you know this? And why should I follow you?”

“The answer to your second question was that you yourself made a promise to follow me,” Yeshua said with a knowing smile.

TO BE CONTINUED

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Footnotes: [1] The King’s Highway (or Road) were a series of trade caravan routes of vital importance in the ancient Near East, connecting Africa with Mesopotamia.; [2] A praetor was an elected magistrate who held legal power in ancient Rome, serving under the authority of consuls. The praetor urbanus was a city judge who heard cases between urban citizens, while a praetor peregrinus oversaw trials involving foreigners.

Author’s Note: Chapter 5 of this story covers that part of Jesus’ biblical timeline from after He changed water into wine until He clears the Temple of greedy hawkers.

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