Great Expectations

Zach was tired. He had been coming down to Tiberias every week for almost two months, bringing news and food to John in prison, and it looked like he’d probably be doing it for the rest of the year. Nothing had changed. After Herod arrested John for publicly accusing him of incest and adultery, people who knew politics had predicted that if Herod didn’t kill him right away he’d most likely quietly let him go - after his wife, that shrew Herodias, had cooled off. After all, Herod was pretty superstitious, and once doubts set in about whether or not John actually was a real prophet nobody thought he’d actually have the guts to touch him. But nothing had happened. It was getting pretty hard to stay optimistic. John wasn’t much help, either. All he ever said was, “Be patient. Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut and bring me all the news.”

And a lot of John’s followers had gone traipsing off after that other fellow, the Galilean Yeshua that John had baptized earlier in the year.

Although that had been pretty impressive, come to think of it. The ones who left, Philip and Nathaniel and the others, said they had seen a dove and heard a voice from heaven. Well, Zach hadn’t seen or heard anything, but he had to admit that it hadn’t been your usual slam dunk. John had seemed - well, almost reluctant to baptize him, they argued for a moment and John had bowed his head and, well, it looked like John was doing what Yeshua had told him to do. John never followed orders! And there had been a weird kind of hush, the usual crowd of spectators had been oddly silent, and the light had been - well, just odd. And John did say that he had seen the dove and heard the voice, too. But there was a rumor around that Yeshua was John’s cousin, and John hadn’t said a word about it from that day to this, and Zach just didn’t know what to think.

Besides, if this Yeshua Bar-Joseph really was the Lamb of God, the one sent to save Israel, why did John go on preaching and baptizing? And why didn’t Yeshua come visit John in prison and make Herod let him go? The Savior of Israel was supposed to set prisoners free! No, Zach didn’t think there was anything to it. This Yeshua would fade away like all the other self-proclaimed Messiahs that had sprung up in the last 50 years, John was probably going to rot away in prison, and Zach would wind up carting bread and fish and olives to Tiberias once a week until he was an old, old man. He was a fool. All their hopes and expectations were coming to nothing. Again.

But this time, after Zach had passed on the week’s news and handed over the food basket, John stopped him. “I want you to do something for me, Zachariah,” he said. “Yes, Rabbi?” He answered, not expecting anything out of the ordinary. “I want you to get one of the others, maybe Ethan or Joel, and go up to Capernaum. Find Yeshua Bar-Joseph and ask him.” “Uh - ask him what, Rabbi?” “Ask him if he’s the One, of course!” said John, somewhat sharply. “Is he the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” Zach felt the old excitement begin to stir and squashed it, firmly. He wasn’t going to let his hopes be raised again for nothing.

“But - I thought you knew!” He blurted out. “Weren’t you supposed to know, when the right one came?” “So did I,” said John. “But I don’t. He’s not what I expected. Nothing’s the way I expected it to be. I don’t understand any more. When he came toward me at the river it seemed so clear, as if God himself was whispering in my ear, “This is the One.” But it doesn’t make sense. That’s why I need you to ask him. He’ll tell you, and then I’ll know. I’ll be at peace, one way or another. But I have to know.”

So Zach went out and found Ethan and told him what John had asked. Ethan shrugged, and said, “l suppose so, since John asked us, but I think we’re wasting our time.”

Zach had to admit that he agreed with Ethan, but he pushed it anyway. “Wasting our time? Why do you say that? Don’t you think John might have a point? After all, a lot of people seem to think this Yeshua is really something.”

“Not this time,” said Ethan. “John’s backing the wrong horse if he’s pinning his hopes on this one. Why, Yeshua doesn’t even look like a prophet!”

That’s true, thought Zach. Now with John, you knew where you stood! He looked just like the rabbis had always described Elijah. He was shaggy and wild-looking, dressed rough, lived in the wilderness, he ate next to nothing, and man! when he raised his arms and called down the wrath of God on all the sinners you could just feel the power. Men fell to their knees, women screamed and fainted, they couldn’t wait to jump into the Jordan and get washed clean. The hair on Zach’s arms stood up remembering those days. Oh, well, even if nothing came of it he’d have some pretty exciting stories to tell his kids. If he ever had any. Abby was refusing to get married until he gave up chasing around after prophets and Messiah wannabees. And he was about ready to do it, too. This would be the last one, the very last one.