Various - "R. Caldecott's First Collection of Pictures and Songs"

Various - "Young Americans Abroad"

Isabella Lucy Bird - "The Englishwoman in America"

The Intelligence Officer - "On the Heels of De Wet"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

The Coming of the King

B >> Bernie Babcock >> The Coming of the King




"The sun tarrieth not for the Passover rabble to finish its haggling
over locusts and fish and oil. Ugh! The mob! And as I struggled for
a place at the fish stand the sun passed over the mountain and left the
valley grim. And lo, as I did travel, my fish and my sparrows slipped
from me and to escape the hoofs and dust of a party of pilgrims I took
my way behind an ancient tomb a long time used of sheep, to bind up my
bundles. And no sooner had I sat me on the green than I heard a voice.
Yet saw I no man. Again I heard the voice like a whisper. Then did
fear lay hold of me lest the tomb be a den of ghosts and glad I was
that the wall on the back was thick. Near this thick wall I put my
back. Then the ghostly voice sounded nearer and I found my ear against
a crack and I listened, for, though great my fear, my curiosity to hear
the speech of ghosts overcame it. And when my ear lay close the voice
was no longer that of a ghost but of a man who hatched a plot which
another who is not a ghost listened to."

"What is the plot?" Lazarus asked again.

"That I learned not though my ears did itch."

"A plot thou hast heard--a plot that hath made thine ears itch, yet
neither dost thou know the plotter nor the plot. The ears of an ass
are thine."

Eli gathered up his bundles. "If the plot shall come to pass then will
thy eyes drop water-jars of tears and thy head know all are not fools
who carry bundles," and he turned toward the court.

"Stay," said Lazarus. "Of a plot thou knowest, yet knowest not. Of a
plotter thou knowest, but knowest not. What dost thou know?"

"Little--save him they whispered against. . . Him I know, and that the
one who hatched the evil did come from the Temple."

"From the Temple!" It was Joseph who spoke and his words were an
exclamation.

"Yea. And the evil one he whispered with is one who knoweth thy friend
Jesus."

"Jesus!" exclaimed Lazarus and Mary in a breath. "Dost thou speak of
_our_ Jesus?"

"A plot against Jesus?" Lazarus asked. "Put thy goods down, thou fool,
and tell what thou knowest."

"Already have I told that for which I was called a fool."

"What hast thou heard? Out with it!" and Lazarus helped Eli unload his
bundles again.

With the party gathered closely about him Eli said, "There is naught to
tell save that some one who hath been much about the Temple did make an
offer of money for knowledge of the hiding-place of Jesus when he is
not at Bethany. To do him harm was the purpose of the evil one, who
did much thick-lipped whispering."

"What harm would this enemy of the Master do to him?" and Mary waited
before Eli for an answer.

"Plotters plot death," he answered shortly, taking up his bundles.

"God of our fathers!" Mary cried. "What doth this mean? Lazarus, my
brother Lazarus, Joseph, Father Joseph--let not harm come to him we
love! Promise me--promise me!" and she held out her hands.

Taking her hands in his Joseph said, "Let not fear take possession of
thy heart but rather thank thy God that thy servant did hide behind the
tomb. Knowledge is better than swords. The young man hath life in his
veins. He hath a great work to do. He courts not death. With
knowledge aforetime of a plot, escape will be easy. But what is this
plot? Who is this enemy? Is it of Rome, or the Great Sanhedrin?"

Lazarus, who had been walking the floor while Joseph spoke, stopped
before Mary. "Yea, Mary," he said, "thank Jehovah that this hath been
revealed, for while the source and manner of the plot doth not appear,
yet there is safety in the warning. Soon will he be with us to hear
the news. From the fox that hath oft crossed his path on Galilean
hills hath he learned how to hide. From the hare that he hath seen
running before the wolf hath he learned the wisdom of flight. Until
the Passover is done must his whereabouts be kept dark. After this, a
far journey."

Eli, with both hands full of packages, had gone as far as the door and
stopped. He seemed waiting for something, and when Lazarus had
finished he said, "That which an enemy of thy friend dropped, was
picked up by the hand of Eli."

"What picked thou up? Money?" Lazarus asked.

"Nay--yet did I think that which he dropped and muttered curses over
was money else would my feet have made wider space between the tomb and
the place of his standing. An old and open tomb was it around which
the smell of sheep hung heavy, and a bush of thorns grew at its corner
and sent branches across the entrance. And when the enemy of thy
friend would have held the branches down to walk over them, a thorn
pierced his hand and he did curse. When he let go his hold of the
branches, they did leap up and catch his garment. And again did he
curse, saying he had suffered a loss. When he had gone and was well
hid in the distance, then did Eli go by the thorn bush to find what had
been lost, and there on the sharp thorn stuck a bit of the garment of
this cursing enemy. So I tore it loose to bring to Martha for I saw it
had pleasant threads woven in it. And when I stooped to pick up my
bundles at my feet, I found a treasure which I did bring Mary. Put thy
hand in my wallet and take out that which doth shine but is not money."

With hurried fingers Mary opened the wallet while the others stood
about looking eagerly on. When she had drawn out that which was not
money, and before those standing by had seen what it was, she dropped
it to the floor and sprang back, screaming.

"Hast thou been stung by an adder?" Lazarus cried.

"Yea--yea. There it is!" and she pointed to a shining gold circlet
lying at the hem of Joseph's robe. Lazarus picked it up. A bit of
blue border with a purple stripe and a red pomegranate, whose ragged
edges showed that it had been torn from a garment, was twisted in one
side of it. Every eye in the room was on the circlet when Lazarus
placed it on the table, and they all gathered close around except Mary,
who stood back watching the faces of Lazarus and Joseph. Martha took
the bit of blue wool from the circlet, while Lazarus lifted up the gold
itself, and the two looked at each other in speechless questioning.
Then Lazarus turned to Mary.

"What is the mystery of this that our servant Eli hath found at the
mouth of a sheep ridden tomb?"

"Mary seeth little of mystery but much of danger in that which thy hand
holdeth," she answered.

"Thou gavest Zador Ben Amon back his betrothal anklet?"

"Yea, by putting it, unbeknown to him, in the border of his coat."

"Where it was tightly sewn the next day and hath remained in the dark
until torn out by the sharp thorn, methinks," said Martha.

As Joseph, standing by, heard this brief conversation, his face took on
a puzzled expression, seeing which Lazarus said, "Thou dost not
understand. Here is that which seemeth to uncover to us the enemy of
our friend Jesus. He is Zador Ben Amon, a Sadducee of power and a
money-lender of great wealth. The man did have his heart set on Mary
and did bring this anklet as a betrothal gift. But my sister loved him
not, nor listened to his proposal for marriage and this gift she gave
to him again."

"Yea, by putting it in the border of his cloak where methought he would
find it on the morrow."

Joseph looked at the anklet. Then he raised his eyes to the face of
Mary. "Thou didst not love the money-changer?"

"Nay! Nay!"

"Thy heart hath taken its way wisely. By this witness," and he tapped
the shining ring with his long forefinger, "he is," and the aged Rabbi
bent his shoulders until his face was even with that of Mary, "he is a
_murderer_!"

"Yea, yea--a murderer he is--_by this witness_," Mary promptly answered.

"Is this Jew whose sensuous advances thou hast repulsed, acquainted
with thy friendship for the Galilean?"

"I know not."

Joseph considered the matter a moment. When he spoke again it was to
Lazarus. "There is a reason the money-changer is an enemy of our
friend Jesus. It may be the woman. But in the money-changer's
balances where gold doth weigh heavy, women weigh light. It is more
likely this cometh of the swift and terrible scourging suffered by the
money-changers at the hand of our brave friend. If so, a third source
of danger ariseth. The wrath of Pilate is the wrath of Rome--a
political danger--ever deadly. The wrath of the High Priest Annas is a
religious wrath, cunning, and cruel as the grave. But the wrath of
Zador Ben Amon is both these and more, for hath not the Master himself
said, 'The love of money is the root of _all_ evil'? Protected must
our friend be against this threefold danger until he can escape, and
God forbid that he fall into the hands of the enemy!"

"Yea--God forbid," Mary repeated with trembling voice. "Thinkest thou
harm hath befallen him so soon? See--the sun is sinking, yet he cometh
not!" Choking back a sob Mary went into the court and to the place at
the wall where she could watch down the roadway.

"Mary hath gone to watch for the Master," Martha said.

"She loveth him much," Joseph answered thoughtfully.

"Even so. Yet it is not seemly for a Jewish woman to let a man know
she loveth him as doth Mary."

"Would that I knew," said Joseph without answering Martha's remark,
"whether the voice in the tomb were the voice of the Great Sanhedrin.
The spirit of murder brooded over the meeting I did attend
to-day--murder in the name of Moses and the prophets."

"Murder thou sayest!" Lazarus exclaimed in astonishment.

"Yea--murder. Such is the spirit brooding over the priests."

The silence following this declaration was broken by a sharp cry coming
from Mary in the garden. "Martha! Lazarus! Father Joseph!" and her
voice was tense with excitement.

"What? What?" they cried, rushing to the door.

"The God of our fathers be praised!'"

"Yea--yea--but for what?"

"He is safe! He is safe! The Master cometh!"




CHAPTER XXV

IN THE GARDEN

The Passover moon was shedding its soft light over the garden of
Lazarus, when Mary and Martha came from the house and sat down on the
broad rim of the fountain basin. The day had been a busy one, and the
day to follow was to be crowded yet fuller with work and pleasure for
it was the day of the Great Feast.

"Anna's father doth give a feast to-morrow for his Passover guests, and
for Jesus, who will be gone with the sunrise on the third day that he
may escape danger. Joel hath been bidden with Lazarus, and Anna doth
desire that we come to help her with the serving," Martha said as a
beginning to her comment on the hospitality of Simon.

While they discussed the feast to be given by their neighbor, Lazarus
joined them and said to Martha, "I am going to Simon's and Anna doth
desire that thou come to plan with her for the feast to-morrow. Wilt
thou also go, Mary?"

"Who goeth?"

"Joel goeth. Joseph hath gone to the roof and Jesus doth rest on the
couch in the window."

"I go with thee," and Martha rose and turned to Mary, who said, "Nay, I
go not. I will stay and gather lilies."

"Hast thou not yet learned the heart of man doth delight in meat and
drink--not in lilies?"

"Thou forgettest the Master, my sister. The guest of honor will he be
before his long going away, and thinkest thou he will not know whose
hand plucked the lilies?"

"Mary hath the last word on thee, Martha," Lazarus said, laughing.
"Let us be going," and they crossed the garden to the gate that opened
into the court of Simon.

After they had gone, Mary went the length of the garden to her lily
beds. While she was gathering the blossoms, Jesus came from the house
and looked about him, and as he passed into the shade of the big olive
tree, he discovered Mary. He stopped and watched her, as with her arms
full of lilies she came toward the pool. In the silver light of the
moon her soft white garments and silky veil lent spirit-like appearance
to her slender body, and her face was beautiful with a rare beauty not
born of flesh. When she reached the pool she knelt and placed the lily
stems in the water. Rising, she hesitated a moment, then turned into
the walk leading to the old stone wall where she often stood to watch
down the roadway for expected guests. For a few moments she leaned
against the vine-grown stones gazing away into the moonlit distance.
Then she dropped her head on her arms which lay folded across the top
of the wall.

In a little while the stillness of the garden was broken by a voice
which said, "Mary." She looked up with a start. Again she heard her
name, "Mary."

Recognizing the voice she ran to the shade of the olive tree
exclaiming, "Master! Master!"

She found Jesus sitting on the old stone bench and knelt beside him on
a foot-stone. "Rest thou beside me," he said to her.

"Nay. Nay. At thy feet have the hours most precious to my heart been
spent."

"Hath my teaching meant this to thee, Mary?"

"Yea. It hath meant all in life worth living for."

"Yet didst thou stand at the wall with bowed head."

"Yea. As the olive branches crossing the moon's light throw shadows
over thy shoulders, so doth fear ofttimes coming across my faith, throw
shadows on my heart. As I stood by the wall looking down the pathway
thou dost often tread, the words of our servant Eli came to me, and
fear for thy safety like a burden fell upon me. At other times the
continual changing, maketh my heart sick and my soul to long for that
which changeth not. To-night thou, Jesus, and I, Mary, sit beneath the
olive shade. Strong is thy step and in thy voice is mastery. Abundant
is my hair and dark, and my body is supple and full of life. Yet will
Time make of thy strength, weakness, and the frost of many winters will
thin my hair and whiten it. In that day the keepers will tremble, the
silver cord be loosened and the pitcher be broken at the fountain.
Strange feet will tread the paths of Olivet and strange eyes look back
on Jerusalem. Yet to-night we are here, thou, Jesus, and I, Mary.
To-morrow--and then we shall be no more. Like feet ever fearful of the
way and reaching for the solid rock, so the heart reaches for that
which changeth not. Ever thou teachest 'God is love.' Doth love
change?"

"Nay, Mary. Love remaineth the same, yesterday, to-day and forever.
Yet the manner of its expression oft changeth. This knowest thou. The
child that presseth its lips to her breast and fondleth her cheek, doth
the mother love. So also doth she love the man that the child groweth
into. And though he be hanged on the highest tree of Calvary, will she
stand by and cover the hisses of the rabble with her sobs, for she doth
love him though he is no longer at her breast. The lover doth love his
love in life's springtime with wild passion. Then her form is round
and her cheek fair and his strength is in the making. When life's
evening cometh--the flame hath given way to the soft glow. Then her
shoulders stoop and her cheek is pale and his strength is in the
garner, yet he doth not love the woman less, but differently. Love is
the soul of the Universe and showing itself in _service_ doth _fulfill
all law_. My Father worketh hitherto, and I work also."

"Aye, my Master, I know thou lovest. In a tone akin to reverence hast
thou oft spoken of thy love for thy mother. With great tenderness
lovest thou little children, and thy fellow man--aye, have I not oft
heard from thy lips that to do away with the kingdom of swords and
hunger and want and bitterness--aye, to bring in the Kingdom of man's
Brotherhood, thou wouldst be willing to lay down thy life? Strong and
fearless, even tender is thy love as thou art a man. Yet because thou
art a man, there is a love thou knowest not?"

"There is a love my heart doth not divine?"

"Yea, so my wisdom telleth me. Yet when I saw thee first a mother's
love shone in thy face."

"And is there a love greater than a mother's love, Mary?"

"Yea, my Master. There is the love of which this mother-love is born."

"What manner of love is this?" and he leaned toward her as he waited
for her answer.

"Before cometh mother-love, cometh woman's love for a man," she said
after a brief hesitation.

"The mystery thou divinest. Thou art a woman. Tell me--what is the
love of a woman for a man?"

"Thou dost ask me concerning the love in the heart of a woman that doth
make it hunger for one man alone--apart from all the world, and in her
dreams feel his arms about her, and beside a cradle look with him upon
bone of their bone and flesh of their flesh? Dost thou ask me this?"

"I do ask thee, woman."

"And I do answer thee. A woman's love is a white flame on a deathless
altar burning for the High Priest of her heart, where, over their
united love the Shekinah doth hover as holy incense. And when the
flame doth burn and the ear be ever listening for the priest in snowy
raiment that cometh not, then doth the flame be ever consuming itself
and the heart groweth sick, for woman's love desireth to give all."

"And doth thy ear listen for the footsteps of thy sacred altar's one
High Priest?"

"Ask me not, my Master--ask me not. From my heart I have already
lifted the veil too far aside for it is not given woman to speak of her
love, though it is her life. Yet love is strange--love is holy!"

"Thou sayest well 'Love is strange--love is holy.' Love is the breath
of God which corruption hath not power to touch. And as it hath been
ordered of the Creator that woman desire to give all, so hath it been
given to man's love, to ask all--aye, Mary, _to take all_. So there
are not two loves different. A man's love and a woman's love are but
the two parts of that love which is both center and circumference of
all that is. And among mankind it is the love that moves the woman and
the man each to forsake all others and cleave one to the other. And
thinkest thou I know not this love? Knowest thou not the fathers of
Israel are a race of lovers? Did not our Father Jacob toil seven years
for her whom his soul loved? It were not a female he would take unto
himself, as a beast doth mate, else Leah would have served as well as
Rachael. But for the love of Rachael did he toil yet other seven
years. Nor did his body rest in the tomb until her bones lay beside
him. And of the love of Boaz--were not Israel's kings begotten of this
love? Aye, it was a lover of Israel that did sing 'Love is strong as
death!' Of this race that has lived and loved and written of love and
died loving come I. In my veins doth run the blood of a nation of
lovers. Rise, Mary, and sit thou beside me. My heart hath that to say
which my lips have not yet spoken."

When Mary had moved from the stone at his feet to a place beside him,
Jesus said, "Sit thou close to me, aye, so close that not the shadow of
a silver olive leaf can come between our souls--thy soul and mine, for
since mine eyes first beheld thee on the Temple porch thou hast been
more to me than thou canst ever know. Weary have I oft come to thy
home and thou hast rested me. Faint-hearted have I come, and thou hast
strengthened me. Disappointed, and thou hast cheered me; discouraged
with those dull of comprehension and thou hast understood, and while
thou hast sat at my feet to learn, much have I learned of thee. Yea,
thou hast been my friend, my counselor, my comrade, my disciple--all
things thou hast been to me save one and without this, all other were
but the hunger thy heart doth feel--were but the High Priest waiting
where there were no altar fire. Mary, thou art my Rachael. Thou art
my Ruth. Thou are my Rose of Sharon and my Lily of the Valley. As a
rose among thorns, so to my heart art thou among the daughters of Zion.
Thou art my soul's beloved! Woman--woman--I love thee! Lovest thou me
with the love that is one with mine?"

"Love I thee? Aye, Lord, thou knowest that I love thee. Love I thee
with all my soul, mind, strength and body. Yea, I love thee--not for a
moon--not for a harvest--not for a jubilee of years--nay, not for the
long centuries that make dust of our fathers' tombs. But until the
Jordan forsaketh its course--until the moon droppeth forever behind
Moab's hills--aye, beloved, until the mother forsaketh her son hanging
on the highest tree, will I love thee--and after that _forever_! For
is not our God love? And is not God eternal?"

"Ah, Mary! Mary! The mystery of Love! Love is Life. He hath not
known life who hath not felt the creative energy of the universe
throbbing, breathing in his soul which love bringeth--aye, love of a
woman. And yet--yet there be some, eunuchs which were so born: there
be eunuchs which were made eunuchs of men: and there be eunuchs which
have made themselves eunuchs for the Kingdom of Heaven's sake." The
last words were spoken by the young Rabbi as if to himself. He lifted
his face to the moonlight for the moment and something like a sigh
escaped his half closed lips. Then he turned again to the woman.

"Mary--beloved, there is a cup which each of us must drink. The cup
that Life hath given me to drink hath ofttimes been filled with the
bitterness of want, with loneliness and heart hunger. But knowledge of
thy love doth overrun it with exceeding sweetness so that all suffering
seems as naught. Blessed be the God that hath turned thy heart to me."

Again they sat silent in the shadows of the olive tree for a few
moments. Then Mary spoke slowly and softly.

"To be here--just here alone with thee! Better than heaven it is to
hear thy voice, to feel the pressure of thy hand and to know that the
throbbing of thy heart is for Mary. Thou makest my soul to dwell in
groves of myrrh; to wander on mountains of frankincense and to feed in
valleys of lilies. Though every drop of water in the fountain, though
every silver leaf on Olivet were the tongue of a Levite shouting
praise, this were faint singing beside the hosannahs of my heart
because I am my beloved's and he is mine! This were enough--enough!
Let the cup of Life be what it may! Henceforth thy cup be my cup."

"Knowest thou what thou sayest, woman? Doth thy heart know?"

"Yea, my heart knoweth. Where thou goest I will go. Thy lot shall be
my lot. Thy dwelling shall be my dwelling whether cave or palace. Thy
pillow shall be my pillow whether crimson wool or stone. Thy joy shall
be my joy. Thy poverty shall be my poverty and my riches, thy riches.
Thy danger shall be mine. Thy suffering shall be mine and whether come
victory or defeat, this shall be ours together!"

"If victory cometh by way of that which men call 'death,' couldst thou
see victory in this?"

"Speak not of death, my beloved," Mary said quickly, "when life hath
just begun."

"Thou hast great faith, Mary, yea and great love. Yet do shadows
sometimes fall across thy heart. So also doth fear cast over my heart
shadows. Last night in the stillness, words I heard spoken in
Jerusalem did come to me until from the darkness that hung roundabout,
a cross did seem to lift itself and afar I seemed to hear my own voice
calling faintly for water."

"Nay, nay," and there was fear and the burden of a sob in Mary's voice.
"Tell me not this evil thing! It doth make the shadow of the cross to
fall upon my heart, dark and heavy."

"Be not burdened with it for from my heart all shadow fled with the
coming of the new day. And to-night, this blessed night, do I feel
life never held so much. Love maketh it doubly sweet."

"Thou art right. The cross were but a troubled dream. For malefactors
and thieves and slaves of Rome is the cross. But not for a Prophet--a
Rabbi--a Teacher--aye, a King."

"Not for a King sayest thou? Herein lieth my danger. Pilate's ear is
never closed nor his lust for blood ever satisfied, neither his greed
for the approval of Caesar, and Pilate's crosses are ever ready for
those who stir up the people. But weep not nor let thy heart be
troubled. The uplifted cross of the dream I take as warning. Daily I
teach in the Temple and none dare take me for my following. At night I
abide without the city, where, none know save those who are my friends.
When the Passover is done, I will go away for a season."

"Wilt thou be with us to-morrow? Ah, wilt thou come again to me when
the moon doth rise after to-morrow's busy day?"

"On the morrow we sit at meat with Simon. The Passover supper I eat
with my disciples in the city, for so have I given my promise. If all
go well I will return to thee when the moon cometh. If I am late, wait
thou until the crowing of the cock, for where my treasure is, there is
my heart also, and thither will my feet turn though the hour is late."

The crowing of a cock beyond the garden wall told the man and woman on
the old stone bench that the hour was late. They arose and stood
together just at the edge of the wavering shadows cast by the ancient
tree.

"Alone on Olivet!" Jesus said in subdued voice. "How calm--how holy is
the garden, and the new day that the crowing of the cock doth bring to
us . . . . . . . . . . . . From the little town of Bethany lieth the
road to the City of Zion, whither our feet tend. But between this calm
and holy place and the towers of snow and gold that shine in glory from
the City of God, lieth Kedron. Quiet with the hush of long silenced
tongues, and dark with the shadow of tombs, lieth Kedron. . . . . . . .
. . . . Mary, if it be that for a little time I should go on ahead of
thee, even to the battlements of the New Jerusalem where the saved of
Levi send their glad songs ringing over all earth's valley, will I
watch for thee, my beloved. And if through the Valley of the Shadow
thou shouldst be called to go alone, remember that I am with thee."

Copyright (c) 2007. topboookz.com. All rights reserved.