Yet whatever I say of Him now is the truth; for all speech is worthless save when it discloses the truth.
Behold a man disorderly, against all order; a mendicant, opposed to all possessions; a drunkard who would only make merry with rogues and castaways.
He was not the proud son of the State, nor was He the protected citizen of the Empire; therefore He had contempt for both State and Empire.
He would live as free and dutiless as the fowls of the air, and for this the hunters brought Him to earth with arrows.
No one shall open the flood gates of his ancestors without drowning. It is the law. And because the Nazarene broke the law, He and His witless followers were brought to naught.
And there lived many others like Him, men who would change the course of our destiny.
They themselves were changed, and they were the losers.
There is a grapeless vine that grows by the city walls. It creeps upward and clings to the stones. Should that vine say in her heart, “With my might and my weight I shall destroy these walls,” what would other plants say? Surely they would laugh at her foolishness.
Now sir, I cannot but laugh at this man and His ill-advised disciples.
One of the Marys
His head was always high, and the flame of God was in His eyes.
He was often sad, but His sadness was tenderness shown to those in pain, and comradeship given to the lonely.
When He smiled His smile was as the hunger of those who long after the unknown. It was like the dust of stars falling upon the eyelids of children. And it was like a morsel of bread in the throat.
He was sad, yet it was a sadness that would rise to the lips and become a smile.
It was like a golden veil in the forest when autumn is upon the world. And sometimes it seemed like moonlight upon the shores of the lake.
He smiled as if His lips would sing at the wedding-feast.
Yet He was sad with the sadness of the wingèd who will not soar above his comrade.
Rumanous, a Greek Poet
He was a poet. He saw for our eyes and heard for our ears, and our silent words were upon His lips; and His fingers touched what we could not feel.
Out of His heart there flew countless singing birds to the north and to the south, and the little flowers on the hillsides stayed His steps towards the heavens.
Oftentimes I have seen Him bending down to touch the blades of grass. And in my heart I have heard Him say: “Little green things, you shall be with me in my kingdom, even as the oaks of Besan, and the cedars of Lebanon.”
He loved all things of loveliness, the shy faces of children, and the myrrh and frankincense from the south.
He loved a pomegranate or a cup of wine given Him in kindness; it mattered not whether it was offered by a stranger in the inn or by a rich host.
And He loved the almond blossoms. I have seen Him gathering them into His hands and covering His face with the petals, as though He would embrace with His love all the trees in the world.
He knew the sea and the heavens; and He spoke of pearls which have light that is not of this light, and of stars that are beyond our night.
He knew the mountains as eagles know them, and the valleys as they are known by the brooks and the streams. And there was a desert in His silence and a garden in His speech.
Aye, He was a poet whose heart dwelt in a bower beyond the heights, and His songs though sung for our ears, were sung for other ears also, and to men in another land where life is forever young and time is always dawn.
Once I too deemed myself a poet, but when I stood before Him in Bethany, I knew what it is to hold an instrument with but a single string before one who commands all instruments. For in His voice there was the laughter of thunder and the tears of rain, and the joyous dancing of trees in the wind.
And since I have known that my lyre has but one string, and that my voice weaves neither the memories of yesterday nor the hopes of tomorrow, I have put aside my lyre and I shall keep silence. But always at twilight I shall hearken, and I shall listen to the Poet who is the sovereign of all poets.
Levi, a Disciple
Upon an eventide He passed by my house, and my soul was quickened within me.
He spoke to me and said: “Come, Levi, and follow me.”
And I followed Him that day.
And at eventide of the next day I begged Him to enter my house and be my guest. And He and His friends crossed my threshold and blessed me and my wife and my children.
And I had other guests. They were publicans and men of learning, but they were against Him in their hearts.
And when we were sitting about the board, one of the publicans questioned Jesus, saying: “Is it true that you and your disciples break the law, and make fire on the Sabbath day?”
And Jesus answered him saying: “We do indeed make fire on the Sabbath day. We would inflame the Sabbath day, and we would burn with our touch the dry stubble of all days.”
And another publican said: “It was brought to us that you drink wine with the unclean at the inn.”
And Jesus answered: “Aye, these also we would comfort. Came we here except to share the loaf and the cup with the uncrowned and the unshod amongst you?
“Few, aye, too few are the featherless who dare the wind, and many are the wingèd and full-fledged yet in the nest.
“And we would feed them all with our
