Chapter 17 - The legionnaires
In Capernaum, a detachment of Roman legionnaires with whom I wanted to find a common language to talk about God were laughing. They did not have to wage war against anyone there, the local Jews did not revolt that year, and most of the time, the legionnaires, under the supervision of their centurion, performed work for the beautification of the city as masons, carpenters,, and earthworkers. In addition, they kept a lot on the grounds around the encampment and grew vegetables to support themselves. From time to time, they accompanied traders' caravans to neighboring towns to protect them; traders paid handsomely for them, afraid as they were of highwaymen. The legionnaires were eager for such trips to get away: they found the dull life in Capernaum boring. Sometimes, they hunted in the surrounding Hill Country to outwit a fallow deer or wild boar.
As darkness fell, the clatter of the nail-studded military sandals of the steer simple men sounded outside. They slanted through the city, looking for cheap boy ben and amusement, which worried the wives and parents of the girls there those legionnaires were so persistently after. Therein, there were no brothels in Capernaum, and the legionnaires saw that as a punishment.
With their imperial salary of one thousand sesterces a year, plus the additional payment for work for the residents of Capernaum, many of them did not know where to put their money. Buying a house or belongings made no sense since their unit could be transferred to another province at any time, and beyond that, they couldn't spend money on anything.
Philippus then said he did want to open a lupinarium in Capernaum and buy black slave girls in Africa for that purpose and bleachers in Dacia, both renowned for their skills. Still, two things prevented us from doing so: the rumor about it came all over Israel and detracted from my reputation as a teacher, and that, above all, beautiful, healthy slave girls cost a fortune, taking into account the transportation costs from the nearest large port city to Capernaum, as well as maintenance until the time we would be out of expenses. Moreover, we had no place for it. Then, we would have to pay regular assessments to the prefect and soap maker, who would not leave other people's profitable businesses untouched.
I also don't come too often blind to public bloodletting because, despite the rigor of my philosophy, I want to keep living. In other words, you could not constantly turn your blood into daily bread because a person's supplies of blood were limited, not even so much by the properties of the body as those of the mind.
People still came to me from everywhere for sound advice and comfort, but almost all of them were street-poor. As a result, in moments of sadness, Oroza Bakurat's letter struck me as a wry joke. Sometimes, I even removed the signet ring with the snake from my finger and held it in my hand to feel its weight of gold. Some well-to-do Jews visited me out of curiosity, so my eloquence did not manage to overcome their suspicion and open a purse for me. The man in the fish barn already fell short of their image of the Messiah.
At times, it became unbearably dull in the lakeside barn, where, before the eye of the very highest, we had evidently taken the place of dried fish for the time being. I could sell my signet ring, but something prevented me from doing so, so the snake head twinkled through on my finger. Although my disciples did not complain, Matthew even disposed that the malnourished saw a beneficial asceticism in that, and even for a long time hard at that, which we all found amusing. Still, Simon remarked spitefully that Matthew would soon become such a holy tree that he would not eat lecanora and bake unleavened bread drying up man's poop instead of crumbs, as our patriarch Ezekiel had done.
By this time, I had explained to my student Alan that one had to commune with God by affirming His reality, not that of prayers devised by poor human beings.
One afternoon, as we sat with a few legionnaires in the shade of a laurel tree near the encampment, I told him of divine nature and the happiness of dealing with him directly. But the legionnaires did not understand. I talked to him about the vanity of earthly life; they laughed at me. I gently tried to convince the legionaries that Roma was just another leviathan in the ocean of existence; they did not understand and became angry.
Finally, I smeared up a pipe I got from Shammai, stuffed it with a knife, lit the fire, and let the pipe go around.
The intoxication from the gunpowder smoke made a crushing impression on the legionnaires, such as all the trainers of the world put together could not have accomplished, if they had come up with the idea of vying with the Roman army in eloquence. The legionnaires were so happy, like children, as if a burden of lead had fallen from their shoulders. They laughed at my jokes and suddenly began to ask questions about faith, even though until then, they had only chuckled as they listened to me. The effect of comforting and reconciling Libyan herbs suddenly showed them the ability to wonder about everything in the world. It took the thick layer of tarnish away from their steered hearts. Looking at the legionnaires like that, I had even regretted that I was not as simple as they were: even through the smoke of the kif, even through the spirit of the wine, and even deep in sleep, unfortunately, I always felt the heavy gaze of reality on me, as of the deal that watches the victim enjoy his last momentary desire, which is also the best thing in our brief lives.
One of the legionaries, Gaius, broke a few branches of the laurel tree they were under, flew a crown from them, and put it on my head. 'Jesus, you are the herb king,' he said, and everyone laughed.
They smoked some more, and I told the legionaries of the green dragon, covered with emerald scales, into service scheduled sinners ended up. The legionaries listened with open mouths as the dragon hid in the earth's soggy bowels. Still, he needed to flick his tail, and whole cities collapsed.
'To which God is this dragon subject? To Pluto? Or to Aesculapius, because you can see a dragon as a big snake. Asked Gaius.
'no, dear Warrior,' I replied. 'This thread is never subject to anyone because he is the main God. And you can only kill like an untamed wild animal. Kill that beast! Kill Julie! And after that, you may decide for yourself what is sin and what is not.'
The legionnaires shook their heads, dancing under the effect of my words and that of the beneficial smoke.
Gaius much to me sometimes in reason and then ask me a far from stupid question...
I continued to tell them that the fabric of existence had become threadbare and that the end of everything was near, that the life of each of us was the measure of the universe ... and I saw how their eyes filled with pride and dignity.
They listened eagerly as they were told something new about themselves. All their lives, they had seen only what they had been allowed to see: dirt in senseless labor from a young age, and then the blood, the subservience, and the even more senseless war's company.
'If you believe in my powers, you can easily light a star in the sky and become that star yourselves,' I said to these warriors, who had suddenly turned into gentle children. 'With the help of your faith, you can in a moment from day to perish in the night, as through a wall, you can be all things of the world in a true sense.' I looked at Gaius and added, 'You must not have read any books, Gaius, to your mind is as sharp as your sword. As it is, knowledge is reason; reason is more than the sum of knowledge. You are worthy of eternal light, just like everyone else here.'
And Gaius, this mighty ruddy legionnaire, scarred and almost burned black by the sun, suddenly approached me and hugged me. He cried. This unflappable get had killed more than one enemy and felt human for the first time, not a nine doll in the power of unknown legates or tribunes.
Using rock in words, I could have substituted wine and women for these legionnaires for a while.
Every time I gave grown men a sense of the authenticity of life, even if I did not always do so honestly in the eye of the civilian man, I also felt the exaltation. I began to see everything around me unbuilt, clear, and deep. So, too, sitting under the laurel tree with the arms of a weeping legionnaire around me, I saw through the suddenly translucent earth the glint of God's scales.
He was clearly worried.
