{"id":351,"date":"2013-05-02T00:35:43","date_gmt":"2013-05-02T07:35:43","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/lateraltruth\/?p=351"},"modified":"2013-05-02T00:35:43","modified_gmt":"2013-05-02T07:35:43","slug":"the-last-breakfast-matthew-1035-37","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/lateraltruth\/2013\/05\/02\/the-last-breakfast-matthew-1035-37\/","title":{"rendered":"THE LAST BREAKFAST (Matthew 10:35-37)"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Weeping_woman_Picasso_small\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0Athan was a hearty, simple lad, as hearty and simple as a bowl of lentils and a round of bread, the very food he was now poking at, but not actually eating.\u00a0 Hava frowned at the neglected platter and then at her son.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhy aren’t you eating?\u00a0 Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure it is, Ma.\u00a0 I’m just not very hungry.\u201d\u00a0 He smiled at her, a faraway, uncharacteristic smile.\u00a0 Hava laid down her segment of bread with a sudden gripping of her heart.\u00a0 Four children borne, two dead, one married away at an irretrievable distance in Caesarea.\u00a0 Athan was her youngest, the last left to her\u2014her baby, for all he was nearly a man.\u00a0 Concern sharpened into fear, and fear made her shrewish.<\/p>\n

\u201cI suppose you had too much to drink last night.\u00a0 That’s it, isn’t it?\u00a0 You’ve been chucking away your shekels on wine and women with that pair of half-Roman wastrels down the street.\u201d<\/p>\n

He smiled again.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat’s it, isn’t it?\u201d she repeated.\u00a0 \u201cThat’s where you were last night, and the night before that, and the night before that, in the pothouses with the Barbus twins.\u201d<\/p>\n

Without answering, he rose from the eating mat and crossed to the blanket-hung doorway leading into the little chamber where he slept. \u00a0Hava rose too and hobbled along behind him, though she did not follow him across the threshold.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell?\u201d she repeated.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo wine and women, Ma,\u201d he said gently.\u00a0 \u201cNo more of that, not ever again.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot ever?\u201d\u00a0 She let the curtain fall between them while she considered this, frightened by its prophetic sound; a clear tempting of fate, an invitation to the unnamed to smite and make it true.\u00a0 Her late husband had told her, ten years ago as he rose from his very last supper, that he was so full he never wanted to eat again.\u00a0 The Unnameable must have been listening at the door.<\/p>\n

There was silence in Athan’s chamber.\u00a0 She twitched aside the curtain and peered through.\u00a0 Her son was kneeling on the bare floor, his arms upraised in an attitude of prayer.\u00a0 So beatified was the look on his face that she drew breath sharply in dismay.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re sick, aren’t you?\u201d\u00a0 She lunged through to feel his forehead, but he evaded her hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Ma, I’m not sick.\u201d\u00a0 He paused, looking at her with strange apprehensiveness, as if to weigh the wisdom of saying more.\u00a0 \u201cIn fact,\u201d he added hesitantly, \u201cfor the first time in my life, I’m well<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh?\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat’s right.\u00a0 I’ve been healed, Ma.\u201d<\/p>\n

She stared at him, and laughed.\u00a0 His round face was as well-fed and well-scrubbed as years of maternal labourings could make it, years of pouring her strength and hard-earned nourishment into her child’s beloved body.\u00a0 \u201cHealed of what?\u201d she asked.\u00a0 \u201cThere’s been nothing much wrong with you since those teeth were pulled.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gaining confidence, he smiled again, a tolerant and pitying smile that gave her a momentary urge to smack his face.\u00a0 He said, \u201cYou’re wrong, Ma.\u00a0 I was leprous and unclean, and now I’m whole.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLeprous?\u201d she repeated, appalled.\u00a0 \u201cUnclean?\u00a0 Who’s been feeding you these lies?\u00a0 Some con man, I bet, pretending to heal you of diseases you don’t even have.\u00a0 Did you pay him anything?\u201d<\/p>\n

Patiently, he sighed.\u00a0 \u201cI don’t mean healed in my body.\u00a0 Our bodies are just masses of corruption anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSpeak for yourself,\u201d she said.\u00a0 \u201cWhat do you mean, healed?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy soul has been healed,\u201d he said, with that same irritating patience.\u00a0 \u201cI was wicked and sinful, and now I am\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, what rubbish,\u201d she interrupted. \u00a0\u201cYou’re a good-hearted boy, Athan, and you always have been.\u00a0 The odd night spent in the pothouses is not going to change that.\u00a0 Didn’t I always make sure you minded what the scriptures said?\u00a0 Didn’t I bring you up right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course, Ma.\u201d\u00a0 Too fast, too kind.\u00a0 \u201cAs well as you knew how, anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat’s that supposed to mean?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell . . .\u201d\u00a0 He stood up and looked down at her earnestly from his new handspan of advantage.\u00a0 \u201cNone of our righteousness signifies anything if we’re not following the true path.\u00a0 Now that I’ve been shown the true\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cThe true path, is it?\u201d she broke in.\u00a0 \u201cI’ve heard that one before.\u00a0 You’ve been listening to one of those travelling magicians, unless I’m seriously mistaken.\u00a0 I heard there was one of them passing through town.\u00a0 Is that where you’ve been the last week of nights?\u201d<\/p>\n

Athan’s face closed in, tighter and more guarded than she had ever seen it.\u00a0 \u201cHe’s not a magician.\u00a0 He’s the Master.\u00a0 They say\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know exactly the sort of thing they say, Athan.\u201d\u00a0 She shook her head, amazed that even such a young man, even her straightforward and not terribly perceptive Athan, could be so na\u00efve.\u00a0 \u201cThey say he’s the son of God, right?\u00a0 The Messiah, even.\u00a0 They said that about the last one, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease, Ma.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd the one before that,\u201d she continued mercilessly, \u201cand all the ones before him.\u00a0 It’s part of their pitch.\u00a0 Don’t tell me you took it seriously.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI saw him heal the sick, Ma.\u00a0 I saw the blind made to see, and the deaf to hear, and the lame to\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSee any missing limbs grow back?\u201d she interrupted.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, no.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAny cleft palates fixed up?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo<\/i>, Ma.\u00a0 But,\u201d he added, with a defiant air of producing the unanswerable, \u201cI heard there was someone there who’d seen him raise a man from the dead.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh?\u00a0 And when did this happen?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don’t know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho was it?\u00a0 Where was it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe didn’t say.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, there you are,\u201d she said in triumph, \u201call you have is some stranger’s unsupported word.\u00a0 Anyone could claim to have raised the dead, my son, but that wouldn’t make it true.\u00a0 Am I right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell . . .\u201d he said slowly.<\/p>\n

It was Hava’s turn to smile.\u00a0 The absurdity of it, the certainty that she could make him see sense and strangle this silliness in its cradle, was restoring her good humour.\u00a0 \u201cAs for those healings, what do they prove?\u00a0 My cousin Salmia got herself healed five times.\u00a0 The first time she even threw away her crutches.\u00a0 She had to get new ones the next day.\u00a0 Jonash never let her go alone after that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Athan’s face was settling into a stony, stubborn mask.\u00a0 \u201cThose could not have been true miracles.\u00a0 The Master says to beware of false prophets.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFalse prophets?\u00a0 That means anyone who does what he<\/i> does, but isn’t him, right?\u00a0 They all say that, too, Athan.\u00a0 This one is no different.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI won’t listen to this.\u201d\u00a0 His face had hardened, and he looked five years older while, paradoxically, seeming younger than ever to her, even childish.\u00a0 Fearful again, she moved towards him with her hands outstretched, but he stepped away from her.\u00a0 \u201cHe warned us that people like you would try to hold us back.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPeople like me?\u00a0 You mean, like friends and family?\u00a0 People who love you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Not altogether gently, Athan pushed her out of the way and squatted down by the chest that held his few spare clothes.\u00a0 As he threw open the lid, he said, \u201cThe Master is my only family now.\u201d\u00a0 He carefully did not look at his mother, but concentrated on pulling the winter shawl from the bottom of the chest.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d Hava said when she could control her voice again.<\/p>\n

Athan did not reply.\u00a0 He had spread the winter shawl on the floor and was folding onto it the extra headcloth and tunic, the few bits of clothing Hava had washed for him a hundred times over, the winter shoes.\u00a0 Then he drew the corners of the shawl together and tied them to make a bundle.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d Hava repeated.<\/p>\n

\u201cI’m going to lay all I have at the feet of the Master.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat on earth does he want with your old clothes?\u201d<\/p>\n

He gave her a baleful look.\u00a0 \u201cI’m going to follow him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you mean?\u00a0 Follow him where?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWherever he leads,\u201d Athan exploded.\u00a0 \u201cLeave me alone, will you?\u00a0 It’s no use trying to explain anything to you.\u00a0 If you’re not one of his faithful, you wouldn’t understand.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut you can’t go!\u201d she cried.\u00a0 \u201cYour whole life is here, your friends, your job.\u00a0 How would you live?\u00a0\u00a0 What would I do without you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Master says we are to take no thought for the future,\u201d he said.\u00a0 Moving past her, he took his knife and pried a loose brick out of the wall to expose the cavity where he kept his tiny savings, a few copper and silver bits in a leather bag.\u00a0 Hava had always known about it, and had never touched it, not even in the days of her direst poverty, when she would tell him she had eaten before he got home, and then lie sleepless in bed with her belly draped empty across her backbone.\u00a0 Those few coins were his future: marriage, investment, partnership.\u00a0 He poured them out into his palm and began to sort through them.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Athan!\u201d she said. \u201cPut it back, I don’t want your money, I just don’t want you to go.\u00a0 I’d rather have you here with me than all the silver in the world.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe money’s not for you,\u201d he said tersely, counting.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt’s for the Master’s work.\u201d\u00a0 He poured the coins back into the bag and tucked it into his shirt.\u00a0 \u201cThe Master says the wealth of this world is a snare.\u00a0 He says we must give up all we have, and follow him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGive up<\/i> all you have, or give him<\/i> all you have?\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked at her blankly.\u00a0 \u201cThe Master’s work must be done.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, ho.\u00a0 What is the Master’s work, exactly?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTo succour the poor, to comfort the widow and the orphan, and\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m poor,\u201d she said, with desperate gaiety.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m even a widow.\u201d<\/p>\n

Athan refused to smile.\u00a0 \u201cThese are the end times, Mother.\u00a0 Our most important work is to spread the word and prepare for the coming of the Master’s kingdom.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnother would-be king?\u201d she said.\u00a0 \u201cSo when will this one be taking over?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSoon,\u201d he said gravely, \u201cvery soon.\u00a0 The nations on earth will crumble before him.\u00a0 There will be a war such as the world has never seen since Sennacharib carried our fathers off to Babylon.\u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cSennacharib was the Assyrian.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt doesn’t matter.\u00a0 <\/i>Those who turn away from him now will spend an eternity in torment; but those of us who follow him\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was Nebuchednezzar who carried our forefathers to Babylon.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThose of us who follow him,\u201d he repeated, raising his voice, \u201cwill sit forever at his right hand in paradise.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat, all of you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStop it, Ma!\u00a0 Stop mocking the Master!\u201d<\/p>\n

He turned from her, sat violently down on the pallet, and began to lace his sandal straps with fingers made clumsy by outrage.\u00a0 Hava put her back against the wall and slid down to a sitting position on the floor, not to stay on his level, but because she could tell her arthritic hip was about to give out.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can tell you just what will happen in the end,\u201d she said quietly to the back of his head, \u201cbecause it’s what always happens.\u00a0 At some point these troublemakers get too big for their boots.\u00a0 So the Romans come and sort them out, and usually kill them, and lots of their followers as well, and they’re all forgotten in a year.\u00a0 And then along comes the next one.\u00a0 Why,\u201d she asked again, \u201cshould this one be any different?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause,\u201d he hissed, \u201cthis one truly is the Son of God.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, really?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, really.\u00a0 The one and only Son of God.\u00a0 When his kingdom comes, every head shall bow.\u00a0 The whole world shall hearken to the name of Cleaphas the Idumean.\u201d<\/p>\n

He had finished with his sandal straps and wound a headcloth around his cropped hair.\u00a0 Now he rose from the pallet and looked down at her inscrutably.\u00a0 It was not an expression that sat well on features formed to be guileless. \u00a0She struggled to rise again, but pain jabbed through her hip and left her gasping.<\/p>\n

\u201cGoodbye, Ma.\u00a0 I’ll pray for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon’t go,\u201d she cried, \u201cplease don’t go.\u201d\u00a0 She stretched out her hand.\u00a0 When he ignored it, she grabbed for the hem of his tunic, but he pulled out of reach.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have to go,\u201d he said.\u00a0 \u201cI have to do the Master’s work.\u201d<\/p>\n

He sidled towards the door with his bundle under his arm.\u00a0 Hava saw too late what he was planning.\u00a0 She launched herself at his legs, but he skimmed past her and was away, leaving the curtain trembling and the tenement shaking to the thud of his feet down the stairway.\u00a0 By the time she dragged herself to the window and pulled herself up by the sill, he was long gone.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0Athan was a hearty, simple lad, as hearty and simple as a bowl of lentils and a…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":15,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4,5,7,9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-351","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-atheism","category-bible","category-fic","category-mess"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/lateraltruth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/351","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/lateraltruth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/lateraltruth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/lateraltruth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/15"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/lateraltruth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=351"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/lateraltruth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/351\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/lateraltruth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=351"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/lateraltruth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=351"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/lateraltruth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=351"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}