The Gospel of the Twin by Ron Cooper Read Free Book Online Page A

said.
    â€œThere is food for the body, and there is food for the soul,” Jesus said.
    Zebulun laughed. “Not satisfied with empty bellies, are you? You have to feed empty souls, too? Ha!” He curled his face into mock curiosity. “How is this food for the soul prepared?”
    Jesus talked to the man about many things: about the soul that dwells in the body as we dwell in our land, about how one can become lost in one’s own land, about how one can give up one’s land to invaders or roam about the land seeking nourishment from leaves and roots. As Jesus talked, Zebulun became quiet and serious and sat with the beggars. After a few minutes, he went into his house and returned with bread, figs, and olives for all. “You have fed our souls, young man,” he said. “Now I shall feed our bodies.”
    When all had eaten and the beggars had thanked Zebulun and left, I helped Jesus with his work. We finished by sundown, and the man paid us handsomely. “How did you become so wise, young man?” Zebulun said to Jesus.
    â€œWhat is wisdom?” Jesus asked. “Is it not finding what one already has?”
    Jesus spoke almost constantly in this strange fashion. The more cryptic his words, the more his listeners seemed fascinated. Some came to our house to hear him, to try to understand what they believed to be his subtle wisdom, and they called him a prophet.
    Others snarled and said he spoke in mere riddles and called him a trickster.
    To me, his voice became like beautiful songs, and I called him a poet.
    I looked deep into my breast to try to find those words within me, but could not. We were two hatchlings from a single egg, but one soon flies and the other falls to the ground. Who can explain why they differ?
    *
    When James was about twenty-eight years old, he left home to live in Jerusalem. I was happy to see him go. He had become increasingly ill-tempered, starting political discussions but becoming furious with anyone else’s opinion. I suppose he was right to be impatient with the fatalism of most of our fellow villagers.
    Our father was both pleased and worried. He’d encouraged James to be studious, and was happy that his son wanted to be close to the Temple. Joseph believed that the Temple should lead our nation, but he also said that the leaders had lost their piety. The Lord would restore things by and by, he said, but for now, we could only pay our taxes, cause no trouble, and wait for the Lord to rebuild his house.
    James argued that our people suffered not from impiety but impurity. He was angry at the Romans not so much for being invaders as for being Gentiles. “They cover our land like boils,” James said. “As long as they walk our ground, we are like lepers of the spirit.”
    â€œWe are not the lepers, James,” I said. “The Temple cult collaborators whom you admire so much—they’re the afflicted ones. They’re the traitors.”
    â€œThose you call collaborators,” said James, “are our only protection for our Jewish identity. Were it not for the Temple, you ignorant Galilean, you would now be wearing a tunic and carrying Tiberius’ shield.”
    â€œIs Tiberius’ shield worse than the Temple’s coins?” I asked. James leapt from his chair to strike me, but Joseph, for whom age had been most unkind and now walked with a cane, reached out to stop him and fell.
    Jesus helped our father back to his chair. “Fools!” Jesus said. “You think you can instruct each other when you have misled yourselves! You are more interested in bickering than in seeking the truth. Perhaps our father is right. Nothing can be done if I am to rely upon you to do it.”
    â€œForgive me, oh my wise brother,” I said, “oh my king who thinks he knows all that is best for people. You can rely upon me. Tell me what is to be done. Just tell me. Who are you today? Amos? Isaiah?”
    I’m