The Pogrom of Gath
A month before, Nathan asked Elias to put his family up until the unrests between the Jews and the Christians in Jerusalem subsided. Gath was a quite remote place to offer protection from the roaming gangs and Elias' property lay beyond the hazardous area, within the mountains encircling the city wall. If there was a safe place upon god's mighty earth, then it was certainly this house.
Ebekah, his wise Ebekah, at first did not agree with him in the point of leaving Nathan alone. "We have never done any harm, and the Christians hold you in high esteem! Nobody would dare to harm us. Besides, who would care about you, while we are protected by Elias?" As it turned out, Ebekah was right after all. Within these four weeks that have gone by since their farewell, Nathan has never only once heard an unfriendly word on the street. It was time to take his wife back home. Nathan smiled, he longed for the time when his family would be reunified.
He was on his way to Elias, within the reach of his final goal, upon the hills surrounding the city. It was difficult for the caravans to trod these narrow paths, which wound around the mountain side, so they took the detour on the outside. For a man on foot, however, it was the shortest way to get to the house of his brother. It was a hot summer day and Nathan was only equipped with a tiny water pouch. The water did not satisfy his constantly growing thurst. How he wished to lie in the shadow of his house, smiling thankfully about the cup of water handed to him by his beloved wife. Eventually he would apologise to Elias about the effort on his part in offering him shelter.
He imagined how they would come running toward the door, when they saw him at the topmost step: Josua, as always, the first one, behind him Jeremy, his twin brother, who would probably carry Benjamin, the youngest, on his back. Then the bright eyed, nimble David. Mirdin would poke him inconspicously into the back to push him forward and would smirk mischieviously at Nathan, unveiling her cheekiness. David was just six, but witty like a true advocate. And eventually Simon, thoughtful and earnest, he would eye his father thouroughly before he would direct his word to him.
Nathan smiled. Ebekah would stand behind them all, waving in his direction. He could hardly wait to see his family.
A slight smell of fire lay in the air when he turned round the last corner. It was the time when Elias' wife Rebekka prepared the evening meal. Just two paces more and he would see the house. From there steps went down to the valley...
No.
The smog. It did not escape from a cooking fire. The house was a burning ruin, a black hole that silhouetted against the green grass.
No.
From his position, Nathan could see Gath, also there heavy clouds of smog entered into the pale blue sky.
No.
His confused gaze turned back to the spot in front of the house where he observed black figures lying in the ashen pit.
No!
Nathan did not know what he felt or did when he hurried down the stairs like a maniac - if not he, who else has ever been in such a state of utter anguish? Among the remnants of Rebekka's lovely garden he found ten charred corpses that would remain forever smirking at god's creation. Their perished arms stretched immovable towards the sky.
Jeremy lay near to Josua, even in death they could be distinguished as twins. One of them nuzzled Benjamin's fragile body against his, Nathan found it first of all upon the stairs. God alone knew how they made it until there. He identified Ebekah just because of her golden ring that he presented to her a cupple of years ago, before the birth of Mirdin, her oldest one. She was burried beneath the debris of an annexe, only her hand protruded, the gold of her ring forever interwoven with her delicate middle finger. The pearl glistened in the rays of sunlight.
Nathan would never know how long he just sat there, staring into nothingness, clutching the hand of his beloved wife. Tears glided down his face, but there was no rescue anymore for his family. He could not revive them by means of his tears.
What has happened here? With blinded eyes he looked around him and wiped his face with his dusty fingers. In the near distance a clumsy black cross stood against the sky. Nathan staggered in this direction. Soon he perceived the little signboard in which a slogan in latin was scribed: Interfectus estis Christum. Sacra terra abii aut pendetis! - You have killed Christ. Leave the holy land or pay for your sins!
"NO!", now Nathan found a way to voice his innermost feelings. Not the Christians, not in Gath, not Elias' home! "No", he cried louder and more desperate. Why would the Christians do such a thing? "Oh please...", he whimpered. Why had they been the ones to die?
For a long, dark time, his fury seethed through him like a bonfire. Rage burned uncontrolled within his body and soul. He could only think of hatred and vengeance. Everything that made him the one he was, was dead like his family. Every Christian should have been thankful not to have come near Nathan at this time, for he learned what it was to crave for murdering everyone around him. His will for peace was destroyed as well. Nothing was left except for a burning hole in his heart, besides the place that domiciled the memories of his family.
He turned his heels on his former home and wandered through the streets. He stayed away from towns and villages without giving a thought to it. When he was not crying and weeping, he cursed and was in a violent temper, or he went along through the dust like a living dead.
He did not have faith in god anymore. He did not have faith in anything anymore. God was cruel, he found pleasure in torturing people - and who could object to god's plans while Christians were counted as human beings too? And if he was not cruel then he was indifferent. He turned his back on his children and let them carry out fights until he got rid of his deformed offspring.
That and more things he cried out to god, spat into his face and would have done anything to make place for his unending anger.
The sun sank and Nathan kneeled within the dust, pounding the earth with his fists, tears cleaving their way down his dusty face. He thought of Ebekah's eyes and the laughter of Mirdin, while god in his mighty kingdom gathered all his wealth and splendour. When Nathan was not able to strech his arms anymore and all his tears subsided, he rolled on his back and observed the play of fire and the warm blue of twilight. The first star appeared.
"And god is," he thought reluctantly. And god is great.
As he was lying there he became conscious of the immesurable greatness of god and felt awe. His thoughts were clearer and a part of the old Nathan returned. Who can direct his hope towards the full understanding of God's purpose?, he asked himself. Who knows where His plan leads to in the end? And what role he plays in this big game of His? And who can avoid the fate that was chosed by Him for every being? What can we do about it anyway?
Nathan had to think about the meaning of his family's death. He remembered Hiob and how he was scrutinized harder by his god than Nathan, and how he did not lose his faith in him. "God forges his arms in fire and pain." He did not know this voice, did not know if it was remembrance or something else. But he was absolutely sure that it was the truth and that his god had made him a means for his will.
Nathan stood up and looked around him. "I will do it, god!", he shouted with a broken and husky voice, "whatever you demand!"
The mourning for his family would never subside and he would miss them until the end of his days, but he resolved to live with it.
He heard horse patter behind him. As he turned round he noticed a catholic monk upon a horse, both utterly exhausted and at the end of their power. When the man saw him, he glided from his horse. Within his hands he carried a bunch. It twisted slightly and a muffled whimper escaped. Nathan approached the monk. He knew what followed now and smiled.