draw in and make himself smaller. But he soon realized that today there was no curiosity to spare for him.
He was sure that the synagogue had never been so full in his childhood. Close together on the low benches huddled the men of the town, their knees drawn up almost to their chins. They sat in order of their trades, the skilled artisans nearest the pulpit, the silversmiths, the tailors, and sandalmakers. Farther back sat the bakers, the cheesemakers and dyers, and along the walls where Daniel and Simon had taken their places, stood the lower tradesmen and the farmers. Still others crowded the doorway, and many, he saw, would have to stand outside in the road. By the rustle and murmur behind the grilled screen that separated the women's section, many of the men had brought their wives with them.
"Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God is one Lord, and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might—"
The great words of the Shema rolled through the synagogue. For a moment Daniel was caught up by them as he had been in his childhood. But as the long passage of the Law was read aloud in Hebrew and then carefully translated into Aramaic, the language which the people spoke and understood, his attention began to wander. Though the throng of men sat respectfully, he could feel their restlessness also, and the anticipation that mounted, moment by moment. They knew that by custom a visiting rabbi would be invited to come forward and read from the Torah. When the long-awaited moment came, every man turned to watch the stranger who made his way to the platform.
The man's figure was not in any way arresting. He was slight, with the knotted arms and shoulders of one who has done hard labor from childhood. He was not regal or commanding. He was dressed simply in a plain white tallith that reached to his feet. His white head covering, drawn closely over his forehead and hanging to his shoulders, hid his profile. Yet when he turned and stood before the congregation, Daniel was startled. All at once nothing in the room was distinct to him but this man's face. A thin face, strongly cut. A vital, radiant face, lighted from withinbya burning intensity of spirit.
Yes! Daniel thought, his own spirit leaping up. This man is a fighter! He is one of us!
Jesus received the scroll and stood unrolling it with reverence, as though he were seeking for some passage already determined in his own mind. Then he raised his eyes and spoke from memory.
"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because He has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord."
A shock ran through Daniel at the first words. A gentle voice, barely raised, it carried to every corner of the room, warm, vibrant, with a promise of unlimited power. It was as though only a fraction of that voice were being used, as though if the full force of it were unstopped it would roll like thunder.
Jesus closed the book and gave it back to the attendant. The waiting congregation seemed to surge forward and to hold its breath. Again that voice made the blood leap in Daniel's veins.
"I say to you, the time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe."
Now! Daniel leaned forward. Tell us that the moment has come! Tell us what we are to do! Longing swelled unbearably in his throat.
But Jesus went on speaking quietly. A rippling murmur passed across the crowd Others too waited for the word that was not spoken. What had the man meant? He had said liberty for the oppressed. Why didn't he call them to arms against the oppressor? Repent, he said now. Repent. As though that could rid them of the Romans. Disappointed and puzzled, Daniel leaned back. The fire that had leaped up in him died down. The man's voice had been like a trumpet call. Yet where did the
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