Brikha

‘In this way God fulfilled what he had foretold through all the prophets, that his Messiah would suffer. Repent therefore, and turn to God so that your sins may be wiped out, so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord, and that he may send the Messiah appointed for you, that is, Jesus, who must remain in heaven until the time of universal restoration that God announced long ago through his holy prophets. Moses said, “The Lord your God will raise up for you from your own people a prophet like me. You must listen to whatever he tells you. And it will be that everyone who does not listen to that prophet will be utterly rooted out from the people.” And all the prophets, as many as have spoken, from Samuel and those after him, also predicted these days. You are the descendants of the prophets and of the covenant that God gave to your ancestors, saying to Abraham, “And in your descendants all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” When God raised up his servant, he sent him first to you, to bless you by turning each of you from your wicked ways.’

(Acts 3:18-26)

 

“Peter said all that quite plainly,” Claudio said. “And boldly.”

And he got himself and John arrested, Anina thought.

“It’s what he’s been saying all along, of course. I thought it was too good to be true. But then he took my hand. He lifted me up. He gave me the brikha of your Jesus.”

Claudio had been sitting with them, having a quiet conversation. But suddenly he sprang to his feet.

“Look at me! Never could I even stand up. Never since the day I was born. Now I can walk. I can leap. I can run!”

Claudio began to dance ecstatically, chanting “Shukrana, Qaddisha Alaha! Shukrana, Isho!”

The twins watched and listened, dumbfounded.

Thank you, Holy God … Thank you, Jesus?

Anina looked at her brother’s face. There it was, again. God and Jesus mentioned together. In the same breath.

Thomas returned his sister’s wide-eyed gaze. Then, wordlessly, they looked again at the spectacle of Claudio, still dancing and loudly chanting.

He was attracting attention.

Anina turned and saw the man standing there.

Suddenly afraid, she recognised him.

Astonished Again

People would lay him daily at the gate of the temple called the Beautiful Gate so that he could ask for alms from those entering the temple. When he saw Peter and John about to go into the temple, he asked them for alms. Peter looked intently at him, as did John, and said, ‘Look at us.’ And he fixed his attention on them, expecting to receive something from them. But Peter said, ‘I have no silver or gold, but what I have I give you; in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, stand up and walk.’ And he took him by the right hand and raised him up; and immediately his feet and ankles were made strong. Jumping up, he stood and began to walk, and he entered the temple with them, walking and leaping and praising God. All the people saw him walking and praising God, and they recognized him as the one who used to sit and ask for alms at the Beautiful Gate of the temple; and they were filled with wonder and amazement at what had happened to him.

While he clung to Peter and John, all the people ran together to them in the portico called Solomon’s Porch, utterly astonished. When Peter saw it, he addressed the people …

(Acts 3:1-12a)

 

Anina noted the passage of time. How long did Peter speak before they hauled him away?

She tried to keep up with Thomas as he pushed through the crowd. They both wanted to speak to Claudio. But now he was completely surrounded. Over the commotion, they could hear him shouting. Barely.

“Look, you know me … my whole life … Jesus the Nazarene …”

He’s a big deal now, she thought. For the moment, at least.

Thomas looked around. Had all the soldiers departed with Peter and John? Were there police agents nearby, watching?

His face close to his sister’s ear, he spoke loudly.

“Ahot, we should go.”

A blank expression. He took her arm.

“Let’s get out of here!”

Leaving behind the pandemonium, they moved away quickly from the temple precincts.

“Another miracle,” Thomas declared.

A miracle?

“Clearly,” she replied.

“Peter. Or John. Or both of them. They must have used the Lord’s power.”

“Or he used theirs.”

From behind them, a voice.

“Thomas!”

It was Claudio. Somehow he had broken free from the excited mob.

“Thomas,” he said, breathlessly. “And your esteemed sister.”

Esteemed sister?

“Claudio, you know my name.”

“Of course, Anina. I know you.”

“What happened back there?” Thomas asked him.

They found a place to sit and rest. Claudio told them his story.

 

 

רֵיקָא

Fool

One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the hour of prayer, at three o’clock in the afternoon. And a man lame from birth was being carried in … When he saw Peter and John about to go into the temple, he asked them for alms. Peter looked intently at him, as did John, and said, ‘Look at us.’ And he fixed his attention on them, expecting to receive something from them. But Peter … took him by the right hand and raised him up; and immediately his feet and ankles were made strong. Jumping up, he stood and began to walk …

While he clung to Peter and John, all the people ran together to them in the portico called Solomon’s Porch, utterly astonished. When Peter saw it, he addressed the people, ‘You Israelites, why do you wonder at this, or why do you stare at us, as though by our own power or piety we had made him walk? The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, the God of our ancestors has glorified his servant Jesus, whom you handed over and rejected in the presence of Pilate, though he had decided to release him. But you rejected the Holy and Righteous One and asked to have a murderer given to you, and you killed the Author of life, whom God raised from the dead. To this we are witnesses.’

(Acts 3:1-2a, 4a, 7-8a, 11-15)

 

Where are Peter and John? Anina wondered. She had arrived with her brother at the temple well in advance of daily prayer, to make sure there was room for them in in the outer court.

Stupid! Just because we want to stay together, we have to sit outside in the Gentiles’ place.

Peter and John usually worshipped in the temple proper, leaving their women behind and strolling past the believers who were gathered outside in family groups.

Where are they? The service was about to begin.

Are they not coming today? That would be highly unusual.

Suddenly Thomas nudged her.

“Do you hear that?”

From the area of Solomon’s Porch. A disturbance.

“You Israelites! You pissed upon the Righteous One! You shat upon the Holy One! You’d rather put a murderer back on the street!”

Aghast, she recognized the voice immediately. Simon Peter. Surrounded by so many people who had followed him there, he spoke from the colonnade, sounding weirdly eloquent. But far too provocative.

How did he get up there?

“Sinners! Hypocrites! You killed the author of life! Ha! He came back from the dead!”

Oh no. No, Jesus, no. Don’t let this be happening.

In her mind, she saw the porch bulge and strain under the weight of the crowd, and then …

Back to reality.

The entire courtyard was now filled with astonished people whose prayers had been interrupted. They streamed out of the temple courts toward Peter, whose fiery sermon was being delivered from the crowded portico where he stood.

I didn’t think he was that tall. Hmm.

Now there was a commotion from the opposite side of the courtyard. The priests, the Sadducees, and their guard captain were moving through the crowd to confront the upstart preacher who had emptied their afternoon prayer service.

They knew him.

“May you be swallowed by the earth, Simon! What do you think you’re doing?”

“You ignorant Zanah! You don’t know the writings well enough to hear the prophets. You need to repent more than all of Israel.”

“Raca!” The words departed her lips as a whisper, but Thomas picked them up.

“Ahot! The teacher would be horrified.”

She turned, grimly staring at her brother’s face. She knew what he meant. How well she remembered.

The Teacher spoke quietly.

“Anyone who says to a brother or sister, ‘Raca,’ is answerable to the court,” Jesus said, “as if for murder. What children of hell are you, to call anyone a fool?”

Thomas lightly grabbed her shoulder. “You must not say that word.”

She was thankful to not be a tiny woman. Her height matched that of her twin.

Still looking directly into her brother’s eyes, she spoke.

“I know. I know, Thomas. I know. But look at what’s happening. If Simon isn’t a fool, then I don’t know what that word means.”

“Oh. Look.”

She turned to look. There were now several large men trying to restrain Peter.

“I remember how the Lord described you religious leaders. He called you ‘a vipers’ brood’.”

The guard captain had called for reinforcements. John and a still-animated Simon Peter were being escorted through the crowd. Removed to who-knows-what.

“Empty-headed Simon.”

“Anina …”

“Don’t you get it? He’s stirring up the priesthood against us.”

“Anina, look again.”

She saw him. She had noticed him earlier, begging at the beautiful gate. A paralyzed man. But now he was running, trying to keep up with Peter and John as the soldiers carried them away.

She knew him well. So did Thomas. They had seen him there every time they came to the temple. From birth, he could not walk. It was no act. It was as real as his twisted legs.

The poor man, she thought. From his first breath, unwanted. His mother even named him ‘Claudio’.

His limbs were not twisted now. As he stood at swordpoint while the two apostles were bundled into a cart, his legs were firm and strong.

“Thomas. Thomas. Thomas.”

“Anina?”

“Thomas, Thomas, Thomas. Thomas. What happened here?”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid. Anina! Anina!”

She stumbled. He caught her.

She knew they wouldn’t be able to shut Peter up. If they released him, he’d be back at it in a minute.

What does this mean for the rest of us?

She looked upon Claudio.

There is a man of stature, she thought.

 

Life among the Believers

Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.

(Acts 2:43-47)

 

Anina walked with her brother in the crowd heading home from the temple. Many weeks had passed since the spectacle at Shavuot and Peter’s fiery address.

It really is amazing, she thought. In the blink of an eye, their tiny band of believers had grown exponentially. There were thousands now, claiming Jesus as their Messiah. How can this be possible?

Yakov the carpenter waved at them from his shop, smiling broadly. He wasn’t part of their growing community, but—like most in Jerusalem—he seemed to admire their way of life.

“Everyone loves us,” Thomas said.

“So it appears,” Anina replied. “But not that long ago they wanted the Teacher dead.”

Thomas looked around at the well-wishers greeting them warmly.

“I know,” he said. “It makes you wonder …”

His voice trailed off. His sister finished his sentence.

“How long can this go on?”

רוחא

“I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me, because he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine. For this reason I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you.”

(John 16:12-15)

 

The twins were still watching the spectacle unfolding outside their window, though all the others had now joined the crowd listening to Peter, whose long address appeared to be winding down.

“Repent!” he thundered. “Repent, and be baptised—every one of you—in the name of Jesus the Messiah. Then your sins will be forgiven, and the Holy Spirit will be given to you.”

Anina turned to look again at her brother. He seemed to have finally recovered completely from his shock.

Long sermons can have a calming effect, she thought.

Not that Peter’s preaching was boring, exactly. His words obviously had struck a chord with those who remained in the street. Some were on their knees. Others were openly weeping. But to Anina it all seemed somehow … strangely anticlimactic.

“Welcome this good news!” Peter shouted. “The promise of God is for everyone.”

She smiled. He’s catching wind in his sails again.

For a while longer they stood quietly, listening to Peter’s exhortations.

“Save yourselves from this corrupt generation. Repent, and be baptised!”

Then Thomas spoke.

“Do you recall our last Seder with the Teacher, and what he said afterward?”

In her mind, she could still see and hear him. After Judas had left to carry out his grim mission, Jesus had launched into a lengthy discourse. Lengthy. But far more interesting than what she’d been hearing from the window.

“He said a lot of things. I remember you asked him about the way to wherever he was going.”

“Yes. And then he said that he himself was the way. But after that he told us about the ‘Spirit of truth’ who was going to come later.”

“Right. The Spirit which would guide us into all the truth. And give us a testimony.”

“Do you think that’s what has happened here? What’s still happening now?”

For a moment, Anina stared at Peter’s continuing extravaganza.

“Perhaps. But …”

She grew silent.

“Ahot, what are you thinking?”

“If the Spirit has guided us into all the truth, why do I feel so bewildered?”

Thomas nodded slowly.

“I feel the same way,” he said. “Like I understand less now than I did before.”

She wrapped her arm around his waist and rested her head upon his shoulder.

“Look how many people are responding,” he said.

I wonder how long their faith will last, she thought.

 

The Roaring

When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.

Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, ‘Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.’ All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, ‘What does this mean?’ But others sneered and said, ‘They are filled with new wine.’

But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them: ‘Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning. No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:

“In the last days it will be, God declares,
that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
    and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
    and your old men shall dream dreams.
Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
    in those days I will pour out my Spirit;
        and they shall prophesy.
And I will show portents in the heaven above
    and signs on the earth below,
        blood, and fire, and smoky mist.
The sun shall be turned to darkness
    and the moon to blood,
        before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day.
Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.”

(Acts 2:1-21)

 

Dumbfounded, she collapsed against the wall. What just happened?

Wind. Fire. Commotion. Apocalyptic reference.

She had been caught up in it, also. Whatever it was.

And who had let all those people in?

Now it was over. Apparently.

As the throng dissipated, Thomas came and stood beside her. He looked too shocked to say anything.

“Thomas? Thomas!”

Her twin just stared at her, slack-jawed, his tongue now seemingly frozen.

She gripped his arm.

“Ahoya, say something, please.”

She did not usually address him as “brother.” The word broke through his trance. He shook his head.

“Anina, did you see?”

“Did I see? Thomas, what is wrong with you? I saw. I heard. I was right here.”

The last of the intruders had returned to the street, where Peter was addressing the crowd now gathered outside.

Grandstanding as usual, she said to herself.

“You Israelites!” he shouted at them. “Listen to what I say …”

“That was … that was amazing,” Thomas said.

She turned to face him.

“Amazing?”

An insufficient description, surely. But she could not think of a better one.

“At least that.”

“It was as if everyone understood us perfectly,” Thomas said. “And our message was exactly the same.”

Through the window, she contemplated the assembled multitude. There must be three thousand at least, she thought.

Our message was exactly the same.

“You’re right, Thomas. We were in complete agreement about everything.”

Anina wondered how long that would last.

 

 

 

 

 

 עָקֵב֒

Then Jesus took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, ‘This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ And he did the same with the cup after supper, saying, ‘This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood. But see, the one who betrays me is with me, and his hand is on the table. For the Son of Man is going as it has been determined, but woe to that one by whom he is betrayed!’ Then they began to ask one another which one of them it could be who would do this. (Luke 22:19-23)

Anina sat, observing Simon Peter as he continued washing the disciples’ feet. Thomas took his place beside her.

“How did you decide Simon should be the one to wash everyone’s feet?” she asked.

Thomas shrugged.

“He’s Peter.”

She recalled that evening when Jesus had washed their feet. It shocked everyone, not least because he had interrupted their supper by doing it. And then he put his robe back on and continued as if it had been the most natural thing in the world.

Saying, “You also ought to wash one another’s feet,” Jesus had broken the bread and blessed the cup, all while uttering those cryptic words about his body being “given” for them. And about a “new covenant” written in his blood.

What did he mean by all that? She wondered.

Then the mood in that upper room had turned very dark, she remembered. Jesus quoted King David: “Even my bosom friend in whom I trusted, who ate of my bread, has lifted the heel against me.”

“I tell you the truth,” he had said. “One of you will betray me.”

“Thomas, do you remember when the Teacher gave Judas the bread?”

After John had asked him to identify the betrayer, Jesus indicated Judas by handing him a piece of the loaf.

“Yes,” said Thomas. “And then he told him to ‘Go do what you’re going to do, quickly.’ Like he wanted him to get it over with.”

Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot. Thomas had liked him, even though he was kind of a rascal. He was always very practical, Thomas thought. He saw things just as they were. Much like Thomas himself.

Also, Judas was a funny guy. Or at least the tried to be.

“We could sell these fish for one million denarii each,” Judas had said once. “Then we only have to sell one!”

It was an old joke. But Thomas had laughed at it anyway.

“Do you think he had a choice?” Anina asked.

“A choice?”

“Yes. Do you think Judas had a choice? The Teacher said all of it was bound to happen. That it was ‘determined’. Like it couldn’t be avoided, no matter what.”

Thomas was silent for a moment. Immediately after Judas had left the room, Jesus said, “Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him.”

Thomas turned his head to look into his sister’s questioning eyes.

“Poor Judas,” he said. “He even tried to give the money back.”

בְּרָכָה

Jesus answered him, ‘Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them. Whoever does not love me does not keep my words; and the word that you hear is not mine, but is from the Father who sent me.

‘I have said these things to you while I am still with you. But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.’

(John 14:23-27)

 

Kneeling at her feet, Peter filled the basin and began to wash them.

His coarse fisherman’s hands were curiously soothing.

There’s something different about him, she thought.

Then, applying the towel, he looked up.

“May the Lord bless you, Ahot.”

Peter, now, was calling her “sister”?

Anina smiled.

ענינא

Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, ‘Lord, are you going to wash my feet?’ Jesus answered, ‘You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.’ Peter said to him, ‘You will never wash my feet.’ Jesus answered, ‘Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.’ Simon Peter said to him, ‘Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!’ Jesus said to him, ‘One who has bathed does not need to wash, except for the feet, but is entirely clean. And you are clean, though not all of you.’ For he knew who was to betray him; for this reason he said, ‘Not all of you are clean.’

After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, ‘Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.’

(John 13:3-15)

 

She watched as the men argued about how to carry out the Lord’s instructions. Who should be washed first? Who should do the washing? Were they supposed to have a complete bath beforehand?

True, ordinary people usually washed their own feet. Even if they did not bother with any kind of bathing, regularly.

She wrinkled her nose.

But they had surely seen this done many times before, she thought to herself.

Feet which had trod the grimy roads of Judea—filthy with dust and waste and animal droppings—such feet had to be washed. It was a dirty job, and inconvenient. But necessary.

She remembered that evening when they ate their last supper together. How Jesus rose from the table and removed his outer robe to keep it clean. She had carefully folded it for him, then set it aside.

He wrapped the towel around his waist. Like a slave would do before kneeling at the feet of his master. Or as a woman might do for her husband.

The scene was indelible in her mind: their Lord and teacher, stripped to the waist, on his knees washing his disciples’ feet.

Stunned. Silent. Shamed. Confused. All they could do was accept his humble service. Until he came to Peter, of course.

She shook her head at the memory. Simon Peter. He always felt he had to take charge.

Rising, she crossed the room and picked up the towel.

“Here, let me do this for you,” she said.

The men turned to her with shocked expressions.

Scandalized, Peter spoke forcefully.

“Woman, you cannot wash our feet!”

“Why on earth not, Simon?”

“Because … because we are men!”

And we’re not supposed to touch each other, even though the Teacher had made no distinction, she thought. She could still feel Jesus’ gentle hands caressing her tired feet.

Casting the towel aside, she left the house, closing the door firmly behind her.

As she sat on the ground beside the entrance, she felt her eyes welling up. Whether from sorrow or umbrage, she was unsure.

The door swung open, then closed again. Thomas came and sat beside her.

“Ahot …” he began.

“Why must you always call me ‘sister’? I have a name, you know.”

Thomas smiled.

“Anina,” he said. “My beloved Anina.”

She smiled back.

“I call you ‘sister’ out of respect. After all, you are older than me.”

She scowled.

“By a few minutes!”

She teasingly punched his shoulder.

“I love you, too, Thomas.”

“Come back inside.”

She shook her head.

“No, really. Come back inside.”

He took her hand, lifted her to her feet, and led her through the doorway.

There stood Peter, a towel around his waist.

“Anina,” he said. “Please, let me wash your feet first.”

 

 

 

Do You Love Me?

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?’ He said to him, ‘Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my lambs.’ A second time he said to him, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?’ He said to him, ‘Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Tend my sheep.’ He said to him the third time, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?’ Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, ‘Do you love me?’ And he said to him, ‘Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my sheep.’

(John 21:15-17)

 

All that remained now were a few scraps of fish. She looked around, scanning the beach and hillsides. No sign of Jesus.

They had barely finished breakfast when he had his strange conversation with Peter. Then, in an instant, he was gone.

How does he do that? She wondered. Perhaps better than any of the men, she knew he was not a ghost.

Thomas came and sat beside her.

“So, Ahot. Quite a morning,” he said.

“I’m almost getting used to it,” she said. “What do you suppose he meant by all that talk about feeding sheep?”

Thomas shrugged. “Maybe he thinks Peter is a terrible fisherman.”

“It made me think about that winter, at the Festival of Lights,” she said. “He spoke of sheep then, too.”

“Did he? I don’t remember.”

“He said his sheep would hear his voice and follow him. He said no one could steal his sheep away from him. Then he said they would never die.”

“Hmm. Yes. I do remember that.”

“And then he said that he and God were the same.”

“Right. ‘I and the Father are one.’ That was strange.”

She was silent for a moment, her eyes fixed upon the horizon.

“What do you think that means?” she asked. “Was he trying to say that he’s God?”

Thomas pursed his lips. Then he stood up, brushing sand from his legs.

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out, in time,” he said, hurrying to join the other men.

Or at least you’ll pretend you have, she thought.

Her gaze returned to the placid lake.

“No one will snatch me out of your hand, Jesus. No one. Ever.”