Click here to read part one. [1]

The man stared at him quietly, then pulled his hands away from each other and brought them together in a sharp clap. The sound was so harsh and loud to him after living in silence that his whole body convulsed. The man clapped again. And again. And again. The time interval between claps grew less and less until it became applause. A huge smile broke out across the man’s face. It was the nicest, most sincere smile he had ever seen.

“Hello Jesus.”

Jesus’ mouth fell open in shock and surprise. His heart began to race. The man’s face grew solemn and he tilted his head a little to the right. His lips pouted with concern.

“I can tell by your face that you weren’t expecting me. I hope I’m not intruding on your little vision-quest or whatever it is you’re doing out here in this God-forsaken place.”

Part Two:

The man stepped forward, ducking his head, and entered the cave. He took a step or two toward Jesus, then stopped. His eyes moved to Jesus’ feet and side to side as he looked at his arms. Then he returned his gaze to Jesus’ face. He exhaled loudly and deliberately.

“My God, what HAVE you done to yourself?”

He stepped forward and knelt beside Jesus, who was still sitting with his back to the wall. Jesus didn’t move. The man rubbed the edge of Jesus’ filthy robe between his thumb and forefinger, clucking his tongue and shaking his head. He then looked as his fingers distastefully, as though something nasty was on them. He glanced around, spotted a nearby rock, and wiped his fingers on it.

He sighed again, loudly.

“Look at your arms, your legs. Oh my God, your poor feet. What happened to your sandals?

Jesus said nothing. He stared straight ahead.

The man laid his hand on Jesus’ cheek and bent his head down, putting his eyes in front of where Jesus was staring, trying to get Jesus to look at him. Jesus obliged him by shifting his eyes and looking directly into his.

“Jesus, you look like death. Your face is so drawn. I think I can see your ribs through your robe, or whatever is left of it.”

His long hair fell forward in front of Jesus’ face. The scent of fragrant oil was heavy in the air. Jesus reached up and rubbed the man’s hair between his fingers. He stared at the oil on his hand and brought his fingers to his nose.

The man smiled.

“Like it? It’s pure nard. A whole flask of it. It’s outrageously extravagant, I’ll admit. But the ladies do love it.”

He flashed his perfect smile again and sat on the ground a few feet from Jesus. His face became serious.

“You know, I’ve been against this fasting business from the start. I remember when we first started seeing it. Oh, it’s one thing when you’re grieving, I suppose, but these religious quests out here in the wilderness - that’s just ridiculous. Fools have been coming out here for years. What it does for them I’ll never know. Perhaps the masses need their punishments. They feel good if they can offer a pound of flesh for their sins. But you, Jesus - you know better. You know there is no sin in the body and its needs. You surprise me. I thought you were more clever than this.”

Jesus opened his cracked lips and whispered, “My friend is coming with bread.”

“Yes, I saw your friend on the way here. A nice man with loaves of bread in a little knapsack. I’m afraid he won’t be coming. He’s otherwise engaged. A little problem at home, I think. I assured him I would take good care of you.”

Jesus’ face remained slack and void of expression. When he spoke he didn’t have the energy to put much expression into his words. All he could muster was a weak monotone.

“I know you, who you are. What have you to do with me?”

“You know me?” The man rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t think we’ve ever met. Well, if you know me, what’s my name?”

Jesus turned his eyes away and stared straight ahead, saying nothing.

The big smile returned. “Don’t want to say it, huh? Suit yourself. Say, I bet you’re hungry. Why don’t we eat something.”

The man got up and walked out of the cave. He returned seconds later with a fresh, hot loaf of bread. He sat down across from Jesus and slowly pulled the loaf apart, tearing it down the middle. The smell of bread filled the cave. Something in the base of Jesus’ tongue seized and his mouth tingled and filled with saliva. He licked his lips.

The man took a bite out of the loaf and chewed it with obvious pleasure.

“Oh, absolutely delicious. It’s from that little bakery by the well. You know the one? The little lady with the limp and the outdoor oven. She does make good bread.”

He took another bite, chewed it deliberately, then swallowed.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but it is supper time. And there are rules, you know. I’m not allowed to touch you or harm you in any way. Unfortunately, that means I can’t give you anything. Not yet anyway. Trust me, if I could I would have brought you a fresh robe, a bucket of water, and a sponge.”

He emphasized the word sponge in a strange way. He drew it out a little too long and hit the final consonant too hard. Jesus looked at him and there was a glimmer of malice in his expression. His smile covered it up almost immediately.

Jesus licked his lips again.

“Oh listen, there’s no reason for all this fuss and suffering. I can’t give you any bread, but you can make your own.”

The man looked around and took up a large, smooth stone, roughly the size of a loaf of bread. He tossed it at the feet of Jesus.”

“Turn that stone into bread.”

Jesus looked at him quizzically.

“I assure you, you can. You have the faith for it. You’re special. What was it she said to you?”

He paused, thinking.

“‘Set apart.’ That’s what she said. You’ve been set apart for great things, Jesus. You have the gift of faith. Great faith. I know it when I see it. With your faith you could probably move this whole mountain. You can turn a stone into bread.”

Jesus stared at the stone on the ground and said nothing.

The man became excited and began to speak faster.

“Think of it. A man who can turn stones to bread. Why, the people would flock to your side. Give them a leader who can feed them, and they will follow you right to the gates of hell if you asked them. The great rabbi Jesus who fed the hungry and the poor. Use your power, for goodness sake. Your fast is over. You made it. 40 days have come and gone. Nothing wrong with eating now.”

He paused and then spat out a command.

“Turn that stone into bread. Do it. Take it and serve yourself.”

There was a slight echo in the cave, and Jesus heard that last phrase softly repeated.

“Serve yourself.”

“No.” He said. “Perhaps I have this power of which you speak. But it doesn’t feel right to use it to serve myself. I don’t need the bread that badly. I can wait until we get to town.”

“But why not?” the man asked impatiently. “What’s the harm in a little loaf of bread?”

Jesus closed his eyes.

“Because I won’t even start down that road - the road of serving myself. Anyway, the scriptures say that people do not live by bread alone, but are fed by every word that comes from the mouth of God.”

The man had been squatting in front of Jesus. He moved away and sat with his back against the opposite side of the cave. He stared at Jesus. Jesus looked back at him calmly. The man’s face began to change a little. His smile became slightly awkward, as if he were forcing it. Lines of anger appeared on his forehead. The man sighed.

“Well, I don’t suppose there’s any use arguing with a man who just fasted for 40 days. Obviously bread’s not the way to… You know, I agree with you in principle. I still think there would be no harm in having a little bread, just to give you strength to get back to town. But never mind. Okay. Right. And good for you. I admire your principles.”

The two sat staring at each other. Then the man perked up and got excited again.

“I also admire your considerable knowledge of scripture. A man of the Word, are we? Well, I have another idea for you. A wonderful idea. A way to start your work in these parts with a bang.”

He paused.

“And the best part is, this idea comes right out of the Bible.”

rlp

Part Three Coming Soon...

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