"We remember the year when Herod Archaelaus was deposed," Cleopas said. "Ten years the man ruled, and then he was made to step down. And what happened in the land when the Emperor, on our behalf, took this action? I'll tell you what happened. Judas the Galilean and his Pharisee conspirator rose up, out of those mountains, and filled the countryside in Judea and Galilee and Samaria with murder and fire and pillage and riot! And we who'd seen it before, this very carnage at the death of Old Herod, we saw it again, in wave after wave, like a blaze in a dead field licking the grass out of the very air with tongues of flame. And down the Romans came as they always do, and the crosses went up and to walk those roads out there was to walk amid the cries and the groans of the dying."
Silence. Even Jason gazed at Cleopas in silence.
"Now will you bring that here again?" asked Cleopas.
"You will not. You will stay where you are, in this village, here, in Nazareth, and you will let the High Priest and his advisors write to Caesar and lay before him this blasphemy! You will let those men set sail, as surely they will. And you will await their decision."
For one moment, it seemed the battle was won. Then a cry rose from the doorway. "But everyone's going; they're all going . . . to Caesarea."
Protests and fierce declarations rose on all sides.
Jason shook his head. The older men were rising to their feet, pushing and arguing, and men reached for their sons.
Menachim pulled back from James, defying him, and James blushed red with anger.
"Men are on their way now," cried another voice from the back. And yet another. "A crowd is halfway there from Jerusalem!"
Jason shouted above the melee. "These things are true," he said. "Men won't bear this insolence, this blasphemy, in silence. If Joseph Caiaphas thinks we will bear it to keep the peace, then he is wrong! I say we go to Caesarea, with our countrymen!" Shouts and screams rose louder and louder, but he was not finished. "I say we go not to riot, no! That would be folly. Cleopas is right. We go not to fight, but to stand before this man, this arrogant man, and tell him he has breached our laws and we will not stand down until he acknowledges us!"
Pandemonium. No young man was left on the floor; all stood, some jumping in their excitement, like the children who were pumping their fists furiously and leaping this way and that. Most of the women had risen. And others had to rise, as they couldn't see over the others. The benches from one end of the room rattled and thumped with the dancing feet.
Menachim and Isaac pushed their way to Jason's side and took their stand with him, glaring up at their uncle. Menachim took ahold of Jason's mantle. All the young men struggled towards Jason.
James grabbed for Menachim's arm, and before his son could get away, James gave him the back of his hand hard, but Menachim stood firm.
"Stop this now, all of you," James cried out, but in vain.
A gasp came from Joseph. I felt it, though I couldn't hear it.
"You go into Caesarea as a body," cried Cleopas, "and the Romans will draw their swords. You think they care whether you carry daggers or plowshares!"
The Rabbi echoed these words. The elders struggled to add their agreement, but it was all lost in the passionate cries of the young.
Menachim climbed up onto the bench beside Jason, and Cleopas, thrown off balance, fell. I caught him so that he stood on the ground on his feet.
"We go," cried Jason, "we go together to stand before Pontius Pilate in such numbers he cannot imagine. What is Nazareth to be, a byword for cowardice! Who is a Jew that won't go with us?"
A new wave of noise swept over us, shaking the very walls again, and for the first time, I heard the volume of cries outside the synagogue. People outside were beating on the walls. The night was filled with cries. I could hear them behind us.
Suddenly the crowd at the door was broken open by a band of men, clothed for the road, with their wineskins over their shoulders. Two I knew from Cana, one from Sepphoris.
"We go to Caesarea, tonight. We go to stand before the Governor's palace until he removes the ensigns!" cried one of the men.
Joseph gestured for me to help him. He reached for Cleopas. We managed to get him up on the bench. Menachim stepped down to make way for him, and even Jason stepped aside, as well he might.
Joseph stood for a moment staring at the maddened crowd. He threw up his hands. The noise rolled on like a flood that would drown him, but slowly it began to subside, and then at the sight of this white-haired man, saying nothing, merely gesturing with both arms raised as if he meant to part the Red Sea, they all fell quiet.
"Very well then, my children," he said. Even the smallest murmurs died away. "You must learn for yourselves what we know so well, we who saw Judas the Galilean and his men running rampant through these hills, we who have seen the legions more than once come into this land to restore order. Yes, yes. Very well, then. You learn for yourselves what you won't learn from us."
James went to protest. He held tight to Isaac who struggled against him.
"No, my son," said Joseph to James. "Don't put temptation before them. You forbid this, and they will do it anyway."
At that a soft respecting applause filled the room. Then murmurs and finally roars of approbation.
Joseph went on, arms still raised.
"Show the Governor your fervor, yes. Jason, show your eloquence, if you will, yes. Speak to this man in your perfect Latin, yes. But walk and talk in peace, do you hear me? I tell you once the glittering swords of the Romans are unsheathed, they will cut down all of us. A Roman army will make the way straight to this village."
Jason turned to face him and then clutched Joseph's right hand as if they were in agreement.
"As the Lord lives," Jason cried out. "They will take down those ensigns or drink our blood. It's their decision."
One voice of wild accord rose to answer him.
Jason jumped down from the bench and marched forward, pushing everyone out of his path, and soon the whole assembly was trying to get out of the door and into the street to follow him.
Benches rattled and clattered and babies sobbed.
The Rabbi sat down wearily and leant his head against my shoulder. My nephews Shabi and Isaac escaped from James' hands and squeezed past others to run after their brother Menachim.
I thought James would go mad.
Jason turned in the door, reemerging from the angry sea of those around him. He looked back as all streamed past him.
"And will you not come with us, you above all?" he demanded. He flung out his pointing finger.