Title:

… and sit a while with me …

Author:

Mrs. Trabi

Timeframe:

1944 and 29 A.C.

Summary:

AU/Realization can be a hard thing and when it hits Hereweald Hrothgar, he's not too happy about it. Through an accident, he and his student, Jamie Novak, fall back to the year 29 A.C. to meet Jesus of Nazareth and His disciples – what will he, the dark and tough man from a different time learn from a man that knows him better than he knows himself? And what will the child learn from a man his parents have always said won't care about him because he has no worth?

Disclaimer:

Well … I do not own anything written in the Bible, neither the words nor the persons, places, or happenings – the words are God's words and any other things are the attests of witness from people who lived about two thousands of years ago, or rather the translations of their testimonies … I'm just borrowing things from that book, and even though I promise that I won't misuse anything written in the Bible, that I won't dishonour God, His name, His words or our belief in Him – I nevertheless do apologize for the chaos I might create in this story … I promise, I will bring it in as much order as is possible for a chaotically inclined writer … thanks for your understanding …

Rating:

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

Author's Notes:

Here, I'd like to say that this story isn't meant to discredit the Bible, God, His word, Jesus, or anything we believe in. God is and remains our first and most important priority – or at least that it is what should be. I am writing this in the hope that I'll live up to the responsibility every author has even though I am aware that this here will be very difficult.

I will be trying to handle the subject as delicately and as seriously as possible, I promise, and I do hope that not only I won't be flamed for this, but that also I'll find one or another of my readers who'll gain a new view and understanding … and that you'll like this one as much as you do my other stories, even though this concerns a different – and in my opinion much more important – book … thanks …

Warning:

Story will contain bad language and swearing.

Don't ever use such, it's neither good manners nor proper use of language and never mind how 'cool' it might sound, it surely isn't a sign of intelligence. It won't get you anywhere and people will think less of you if you are unable articulating properly.

Story will contain references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once having been abused, then try to help … there are too many people in our world who are or have been mistreated.

This does however not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be …^.~ … believe me - I am …

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

Previously in … and sit a while with me …

It hadn't been the first time that his Father in heaven had shown him how pleased he was, and neither had it been the last time, of course not, but it had been the first time that he'd done so openly and to the entire world even – and he had been as happy about it, as he was now, because his Father was proud of him, again.

And his Father would be with him, he would take care of him, and he would make sure that in the end he would be alright, like he always had done, and like he always would do.

It wasn't a solution his disciples were happy about, because there was no solution which would make them happy. He had to die, never mind them, but he felt better anyway, he felt alright.

He knew what was to come, of course. And of course he was scared of it – but for the moment, he felt better, for the moment he felt alright – and when his time had come, then he would ask for his Father's support anew.

He had been unsure about his disciples too, about how they would take it if there was someone walking towards them and telling them that they should follow him, that they could live in forgiveness from now on if only they followed him with all their mind and heart? But despite his first unsureness, he had found a way to make them see and again, his Father had been very happy when he had managed this, to make them see that – no longer was the message to be restricted to the house of Israel but that it was to be declared to all people. The word of the Kingdom would be his proclamation, his gospel and so the truth wouldn't be limited to the now Old Testament anymore, and so he was the first sower, teaching his disciples so that he could be working through them, spreading the gospel throughout the world while others would follow – being the next sowers, the next disciples.

… and sit a while with me …

Part one – of teachers and pupils

Chapter five – Our world, our future?

Fall 29 A.C. about November – Jerusalem

Viewpoint of John

Watching Jesus leaving to the back yard he knew that – he better didn't follow, even though he was sure that the other man had been in an argument with James – and he even knew what the subject of the argument had been, even though he had come out of the house just a few moments ago, together with Peter and Mark. Because he knew how much James had suffered over the past few days, and because he knew how desperately James was searching for a solution to the problem – any solution.

The problem was – there was no solution, at least no solution any of them would like.

Well, of course they had not had a real argument. Jesus didn't have arguments with people, not even with the Pharisees, and they were very much grating on his nerves with their hypocritical ways and actions, always telling on others while they weren't much better themselves. He really sometimes needed to gather himself – and immensely so – to not start an argument with them, because he knew that he would hurt Jesus with it and that was something he didn't want, but he really didn't know sometimes how the other man was doing this, staying so – calm and serene in the face of annoyance. That man was so very calm and – and something – he just didn't have arguments with people.

Somehow he seemed to understand everyone, even though they stood on different ground and had different viewpoints, and then he always seemed to find a solution to the problem even though no one had seen a solution before. Sometimes he thought that Jesus didn't even see a problem in what seemed to be a problem to others in the first place, and the solutions he came up with – well, not only did they speak of great wisdom, but they also seemed so simple and logical that sometimes he wondered why they hadn't found it. Maybe just because Jesus didn't act in anger, maybe because Jesus didn't feel anger – he didn't know.

Somehow he couldn't imagine that the man wouldn't feel anger once in a while.

Sure, he knew that Jesus was the son of God, but Jesus could feel happiness, and he could feel joy and love, and understanding – so, surely he could feel anger and disappointment too, because one thing came along with the other, didn't it? So, he guessed that Jesus just didn't act on his anger and on his disappointment. And alright, sure, he knew that – well, Jesus was so very peaceful, and so calm, even-tempered, it was admirable and he wished he could say the same of himself – which he definitely couldn't, but how for the sake of heaven did Jesus not lose his temper once in a while!? He, John, he was angered much more quickly and often had this led to trouble, and to Jesus reprimanding him, or to looking at him pointedly, and disapprovingly, and he didn't like it one bit, because he didn't like to disappoint Jesus whom he loved so much. But again – peaceful or not, calm or not and even-tempered or not – at one point or another it just had to be too much for Jesus too – at least theoretically. But the fact was – he had never seen that man angered.

It was strange – Jesus had many followers, but some followed him for just a short time and some – like them, the twelve – followed him for much longer, for more than two years now. And somehow Jesus seemed to really love everyone, even people he didn't know, but Peter, James and he, John, it seemed that they were holding a special place in Jesus' heart and he tried to do everything he could not to disappoint the other man – which he didn't always manage however, and most likely more to his own disappointment than to Jesus'.

However, even though Jesus might reprimand some people, he never did it in a hurting way and he never passed judgment on them. He just told them what they did wrong, in a teaching way, and – well, the strange thing was, most people understood.

Except for the Pharisees, he couldn't help thinking with a huff, they were just so very deadlocked in their – in their everything, it was a wonder that they weren't glued with their feet to the ground where they had been born.

Well, never mind that!

Right now he knew that Jesus was going to have a conversation with his Father if he went to the back yard. And a conversation it was, because somehow – Jesus didn't recite prayers like the Pharisees, and he didn't just beg his Father for things, he didn't even just thank him for things – it was, different. Sure Jesus did thank his Father for things, and sure he asked his Father for help too, but anyway it was as if they had a real conversation. Jesus was telling his Father about his day, or of the latest trouble with Mark, of where they had gone – as if God wouldn't know it already. He also asked for his opinion, and asked him to watch over people, or he just sat there, not saying anything at all, at least not with his voice, but he was sure that in these silent times, he was having a conversation with his Father anyway, even though he didn't understand how Jesus was doing it.

He'd tried the same, having a conversation with God. But while God answered Jesus, he'd never answered him. Well, alright - not in the same way at least. Because one time he'd accused God of not caring that he was a friend of his son, and even though he'd had a bad conscience later on – well, he'd just done it. He'd just been too upset.

Flashback

"Why won't you answer me, Lord!" He called to God after he'd talked to him for some time now – and not for the first time. "I'm not just some simple fisherman in need, I'm a friend of your son, after all, and I just ask you to speak to me! Just one time! Don't misunderstand me, I don't wish proof, I know you're there, but – why won't you talk to me? You have talked to Moses, to Abraham, and to Noah, were these men worth so much more than I am? Am I not a child of you too? I don't ask you for a kingdom after all but for a short conversation only! For your love and for your attention!"

But of course there was no answer, there never was and sighing he sat down at the log in the back yard, the very place where Jesus was so often sitting, conversing with his Father, praying to his Father, and thanking his Father – and where he got answers from his Father, too.

But why would God not speak with him? He remembered when he'd been a child – his parents had always talked to his friends when they had visited. And his friends' parents had talked with him too when he had visited them. Was he not a friend of Jesus? Was he really just a follower of Jesus? A small and unimportant disciple? Someone who was a student and not worth more than being taught by his teacher? Someone who was to accompany Jesus for a short time and then would be forgotten? Left behind just like that?

It was but a moment later that he could feel God's answer in his heart and with a smile he looked up at the sky, realizing that – God did love him as much as he loved Jesus, his own son, and God did very well communicate with him, just in a different way than he communicated with Jesus. And he would be neither forgotten nor left behind. God seemed to just have different ways of talking to his children.

When he lowered his gaze back to the ground his eyes fell on the man standing near the log, leaning with his shoulder at the edge of the house, Jesus, the one person he loved most in this world, the one person he would die for.

"You are worth as much as Moses, Abraham, and Noah have been." Jesus said, softly, and his dark eyes were resting on him with a warm gaze. "While you are, indeed, not worth more than the simple fisherman in need. And at the same time God will very much present you with a kingdom, but it will be a kingdom different from what you know."

End flashback

Of course he wasn't worth more than the simple fisherman in need, and of course he hadn't meant it that way. He'd just been – desperate, and could not understand why Jesus could have conversations with his Father while he couldn't.

Not that he had ever seen it.

Sure, sometimes Jesus asked them – Peter, James, and him, to accompany him, to come and pray with him. But not always, and they would never follow Jesus without being invited. They would never disturb Jesus' privacy. And while they were with him for prayer there had never been a direct answer, at least not to his knowledge, not for him to hear. Maybe it was something like – a mental bond. That could be, after all, couldn't it?

But sometimes there had been a problem and then Jesus had told them that he would ask his Father – and then he had gone to pray and when he had come back he had told them that his Father had been with him, that he had gotten an answer and that the problem was solved. He never knew in what exact way Jesus' Father was – there, but he also knew that it wasn't important either. One day, when it was God's wish, then he would be with him too – and until then? Well, he always said that he was walking on this earth to learn patience.

"Go to bed, Mark." Peter said, getting his thoughts back to the present time. "I have promised your mother that you won't be up all night to look at the stars. You are old enough now to know your responsibility and to act accordingly and a man needs to go to bed at night so that he can do his share of work by day."

Looking down at the little boy that was halfway sitting and halfway lying on his lap, his head resting on his chest comfortably, he noticed that Nathaniel had fallen asleep, like he always did shortly after the little lad had climbed on someone's lap.

"But I'm not tired, Uncle Peter." Mark said, followed by an – "alright, I'll go to bed" when Peter gave him a pointed look, and he smiled while running his fingers over Nathaniel's relaxed face, remembering the conversation they'd had just two days before.

Flashback

"Please, mother." Mark said – no, begged his mother when Mary saw them off in the yard after they had bid farewell. "Uncle Peter is with them too, and so I won't be alone with the bunch of rascals, please, only a day or two."

"A bunch of rascals are we?" Peter huffed at Mary with a playfully hurt face. "I'll remember that, my dear lady."

"Just please, mother." Mark begged again before Mary could get a word in. "I promise, I will be good."

"I can understand that you won't allow your son with this rascal here." He said, pointing at Peter with a winking of his eye. "But I promise that I will keep an eye on him, don't worry, Mary."

"You will make sure that the boy goes to bed at sometime during the night, Peter." Mary finally said, turning to the boy's caretaker. "If it were up to him, then he would sit all night long outside in the yard, looking up at the stars and then lay in bed and sleep all day long."

"Of course we will, Mary." He said, and Peter looked at him with a glare, seeing that not only had Mary addressed Peter, but also seeing that it was Peter's duty to care for the lad as he was in his responsibility.

"And make sure that he will be home two days after morrow." Mary then added, ignoring Mark's happy face.

"That makes three days!" The boy exclaimed, happily, nearly dancing in the yard.

"You better hurry up, boy." Peter growled at the overenthusiastic behaviour of his fosterling. "We are departing and we won't wait for you."

End flashback

Well, he'd barely seen any boy hurrying as much as Mark had yester afternoon to get his things packed, an extra robe and a shirt to wear beneath, a cloth for washing his face, and a comb for his hair, and then the boy had been back within the minute – nearly at least, his face red with the hurry and with happiness.

Mark was a good boy and like all boys he just tried to kick over the traces from time to time. He just needed to learn that there would be people in his life who would get him back on track whenever he overstepped them, that he would have to bear the consequences of his actions later on.

Shifting the small boy on his lap into a more comfortable position and then looking back at James he knew that – there was more than just a simple problem, and he was sure to know the troubles which were nearly written in red letters over James' forehead.

It was Jesus' upcoming departure, his upcoming death. And yes, of course he knew of it, they all did. Jesus had told them about it, that he would be betrayed into the hands of men, that he would be slain, and that he would rise again after three days.

"Whom do men say that I am?" Jesus had asked them one day and they had answered that people said he was one or another of the old prophets. He'd then asked them whom they said he was, his disciples, and Peter had answered, saying that he was Christ, the son of the living God.

"And I say also unto thee that thou art Peter, and unto this rock I will build my church and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it." Jesus had then said. "And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven. And whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven."

He had then commanded them to tell no man of it, but he had also told them that he had to go unto Jerusalem, that he would have to suffer many things and that he would be rejected by the elders and chief priests. He'd also told them that he would be killed and that he would rise again the third day.

Peter had taken Jesus by his shoulders, nearly shaking him, and rebuking him that he couldn't say such a thing, that such a thing wouldn't happen, not to him and he had felt the desperation Peter had radiated, shaking like a leaf himself. Well, Jesus had turned then, and had rebuked Peter because he had desired not the wishes that were of God, but those that were of men.

"It is our Father's will that shall be done on earth as it is in heaven." Jesus had said, looking at them pointedly. "Not men's will."

Of course Jesus had understood the pain Peter had felt in this moment, the pain all of them had felt at that moment – and still felt, especially James and him, but he also had told them that it was his Father's wish, that it was necessary, that this was the purpose for which he had been sent down to earth by his Father, to save all of them – and apparently this was the only way.

Somehow he knew that Jesus was right, because that man had tried to teach so many people. Thousands and thousands, Jesus had been teaching, crowds of people listening to him, but always there were amongst them too many who wouldn't understand, who wouldn't believe, or who wouldn't believe for long, who wouldn't believe in their hearts. And still those thousands were too few. There were too many people who – couldn't be saved and so, Jesus had to make this one sacrifice. His blood for all mankind and their sins – theirs, the disciples', included. Not a thought that sat well with him and he would do all in his power if only he could prevent it.

He had tried to live without sin. After all, Jesus had taught them what was sin, but – somehow he hadn't really managed.

When Jesus had heard that John the Baptist was cast into prison he had departed into Galilee and walking by the sea of Galilee he had seen two brothers, Simon – whom was now called Peter – and Andrew his brother, fishermen who were casting a net into the sea. He'd told them to follow him, that he'd make them fishers of men, and they'd straightway left their nets and had followed him. Jesus had then seen James and him, in the boat with their father where they'd been mending their nets, and Jesus had called them too. And they too had left their boat – and their father – and had followed him. Not that their father had been very accepting in the beginning. No, it had been a real hassle back then – but well, in the end Zebedee hadn't had any choice other than to accept their decision after they hadn't changed their minds.

They had dwelt in Galilee, and Jesus had been teaching in the synagogues, preaching the gospel of the kingdom and he had healed all manner of sickness and disease amongst the people there. A lot of people had followed them, people from Galilee, from Jerusalem and from Judea, even people from far beyond the Jordan.

However, seeing the crowd of people, Jesus had gone up a mountain where his voice could be heard over all the fields and paths, and there he had begun to teach them what was sin, telling them that they should not only not kill, but that they shouldn't even be angry with their brothers, and that they should not only not commit adultery, but that they should not look at women with lust at all. Not that he lusted after women, surely not – but once in a while they met good-looking women and – well, it wasn't easy to not look at them with a "whoa, what a woman" on his mind. But what he really had a problem with was – that they should love their enemies, that they should do good to them, and that they should not give back when someone struck them – but that they were to offer their other cheek also.

In many ways Jesus had completely turned over the old laws, and even though he could understand them, it was sometimes hard for him to live up to his Lord's expectations. For a moment the thought crossed his mind that – how hard had it to be for Jesus, to live up to his Father's expectations, and how much had Jesus had to fear failure and disappointing his Father?

Taking a deep breath he knew that – no, he had no right to complain, not even in his mind, because their task was so small compared to what Jesus had to do.

"Finally finished with your musings, John?" Peter asked the moment he looked up. "Or have you been sleeping with your eyes open?"

"I've just been wondering about how Jesus turned over the old laws." He said, leaning back against one of the poles of the veranda.

"How so?" Peter asked back, furrowing his brows.

"Well, don't you remember when Jesus told us that we should not even look at women with lust and that we shouldn't even be angry with our brothers, and that we shouldn't give back if someone strikes us but offer the other cheek also." He explained his line of thinking.

"What has James done now?" Peter asked and he frowned at the other man. "Has that idiot lusted after women or has he ended up in a fight?"

"Neither, he's done nothing, why?" He asked back, not really understanding.

"Because you remember Jesus' teaching about not being angry with our brothers – so, what has James done?" Peter insisted and he rolled his eyes.

"I didn't remember it because of something James has done." He said, shaking his head. "I just – remembered. And I just thought about how much he has turned over the old laws."

"You're aware of the little fact that this was – months ago already?" Peter asked.

"So what?" He huffed, knowing what his friend wanted to say with his question. "Where's James anyway?"

"He's gone for a walk." Peter answered. "But he also could have sounded the horn and you wouldn't have noticed, so deep have you been in your thought."

"Contrary to you, I am thinking." He growled, playfully.

"Peter is using his brain very much as do you, John." Jesus' voice came from the side, and with a smile he looked up at the approaching man.

"Sure?" He asked, playfully.

"Of course." Jesus answered.

"I wouldn't be too sure when it comes to this one." He chuckled, lazily pointing at Peter.

"Look who's talking!" Peter growled at him, giving him a dark look but he knew that it wasn't meant in a bad way, it never was.

"Have I ever been wrong?" Jesus asked, while sitting down at the bench beside Peter, looking at them with his eyebrow lifted because of their bickering.

"Sure." Peter answered and now it was he who lifted his eyebrow at the other man because to his knowledge Jesus so far had been very correct about things. "Just last week." Peter then added. "The raisins cost more than you said."

"Idiot!" He huffed at the idiot.

"Have I ever told you about science or math?" Jesus said after casting a pointed look at him, John, because of the 'idiot' he had called Peter, and he rolled with his eyes.

"No, you haven't." Peter answered and he smirked, being very interested in the conversation. "And I start to wonder why ever not."

"Because I am neither a scientist, nor a mathematician." Jesus seriously answered. "I am a theologian and I haven't come to earth to teach you in any of these subjects, but I've come to teach you in how to love your brothers, and in how to do our Father's wish, I have come to redeem you. Would I speak about science or arithmetic, then I would need to say things so complicated that nobody would understand them, even with the parables. I am here to redeem you and I don't know what the raisins cost right now because it isn't important."

"Now you know it, and that's the reason as to why I am using my brain very much as do you, John." Peter said, a broad grin plastered on his face.

"Say you." He huffed.

"Says Jesus." Peter answered, still grinning. "At least I'm not sitting there with my mind far away like an idiot, realizing things which have happened months ago already, and starting to drool." Peter laughed, leaning back himself and John rolled his eyes.

"Oh, just shut it!" He called out, nearly feeling desperate. "I've just been – worried!"

"Ah, and here we're back at the question – what has James done this time?" Peter smirked at him and he huffed at the other man. Really, living together with eleven idiots like them wasn't so easy sometimes.

"None of them is one." Jesus seriously said, looking at him pointedly and he scowled.

"But sometimes they behave like some bunch of idiots." He growled. "And just for your information, Peter, James has done nothing. I'm just worried about him because he's worrying so much."

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

Viewpoint of Jesus

"You all are worrying too much – and needlessly so." Jesus said.

He could understand that they were worried, his disciples, and on one hand he even felt flattered about his disciples loving him enough to worry about him – but at the same time he knew that – they shouldn't. It was God's will done on earth as it was in heaven and if they cared about what they wanted, instead of what God wanted, it just wasn't right.

Not to mention that – his Father would take care of him anyway, his Father would be with him and he would be alright.

"It's our nature to worry." John said, looking at him seriously, all bickering and playing gone. "You can't change it, we just do. We worry about the ones we love. And like it or not, we do love you."

"I know that you do." He answered just as seriously, sighing. "But you need to understand that my sacrifice is simply necessary. We all have our place, and my place here on earth is to redeem mankind, I am here to save all of you, and if I cannot do this by my teaching, then it needs to be done by my death as sacrifice – the blood of an innocent for the sins of mankind."

"You say that it is necessary to redeem mankind, but mankind won't appreciate it." Peter answered. "Mankind will not change because of your sacrifice, mankind will not change and your sacrifice will be in vain."

"It won't." He answered, smiling at one of his most beloved. "Don't you remember how Abraham bargained with the Father in heaven?"

"Sure." Peter answered. "Peradventure there be fifty righteous within the city, wilt thou also destroy and not spare the place for the fifty righteous that are therein? Abraham had asked."

"And the Father in heaven had answered: if I find in Sodom fifty righteous within the city, then I will spare all the place for their sakes." He answered, looking at John who didn't look too happy either.

"I know." John then said, getting the hint. "And peradventure there shall lack five of the fifty righteous, wilt thou destroy all the city for lack of five? Abraham had then asked."

"And the Father in heaven had answered: if I find there forty and five, I will not destroy it." He nodded his head. "Abraham had then asked: peradventure there shall be forty found there, wilt thou then destroy and not spare the city for the lack of ten? And the Father in heaven had answered: I will not destroy it for forty's sake. But again Abraham had said: oh, let not the Lord be angry, but peradventure there shall thirty be found there, wilt thou destroy it for lack of twenty? And the Father in heaven had answered: I will not do it if I find thirty there. Again Abraham had stood before God, asking: peradventure there shall be twenty found there – and the Father in heaven had answered: I will not destroy it for twenty's sake. And finally Abraham had asked: oh, let not the Lord be angry, I will speak yet but this once: peradventure ten shall be found there – and the Father in heaven had answered unto Abraham, I will not destroy it for ten's sake. And now I tell you that mankind will be redeemed if only one righteous man shall be found."

"But there is already one righteous man!" John exclaimed, looking up at him with hope in his eyes and he sighed, shaking his head.

"Of course there is, and more than one even." He answered, looking at Peter too. "And yet I tell you that it is necessary because every man who can be saved shall be saved. Let me ask you a question: our Father in heaven gave you earth to live on. He has created earth before he has created Adam and thus he has proven great responsibility. He has not first created Adam, not knowing whereto he should then put him – no. He has first created the environment and food before he has created man. Now I ask you – should men not show the same responsibility in caring for earth our Father has created so that all the men that are to follow may live on this earth also?"

Vision

A man, wearing blue trousers, a white button-down shirt, and a – narrow napkin tied around his neck – left an eatery that was called McDonalds, and for a moment he wondered why the man was wearing it still, not to mention that it was too small anyway, but then he shook his head at the realization that it was not a napkin, but an accessory to show that he was a businessman. The man went to his vehicle, opened the door and got in the automobile. He started eating – or rather wolfing down the food from the paper bag – and just a few minutes later he threw the paper bag out of the open window before starting his vehicle and then driving away.

And he knew that the man was a politician who didn't care for the earth God had given him, but for his money and his reputation only.

A woman, wearing a very colourful dress, opened the – 'ice cupboard' – and taking out a paper box with chicken parts she sniffed and then she opened the trash can and threw the box in, the paper box and chicken parts together with the sauce and the plastic fork. Looking around the kitchen he could see a lot of leftover food on the plates, enough food to feed a small family, good food, and he knew, it would end up in the same trash can as had the box.

And he knew that the woman was a teacher who did indeed care about the earth and the children she was teaching, but that she was acting without thinking, going the comfortable way instead of thinking about what she was doing while going through her day.

A boy, about thirteen or fourteen years of age, wearing sticks in his ears and listening to music through them, walked along the pavement. He was taking a candy from the pocket of his jeans and unwrapping the candy the boy stopped for a moment before popping the candy into his mouth. He continued walking along the pavement and carelessly threw the candy wrapper to the ground.

And he knew that it wasn't the boy's fault, but the fault of the adults around him which had never shown the child differently, that the lad had simply never learned that it was important to care for the earth God had given them.

A girl, six or seven years of age, was sitting on the grass, picking flowers, sniffing them for a moment before getting up and happily skipping along the path that led through the park. The girl then met up with her mother who looked down at the child for a moment before scowling and then telling the girl that she didn't want the flowers at home, telling the girl that she should throw them away and with a sad face the girl did as her mother had said, threw the flowers she had just picked, and happily so to make her mother happy too, to the ground where they would be left for withering away, for dying.

And he knew that – it had been the first few lessons the child had learned. Lessons as in plural, because not only had the child learned that she couldn't please her mother with self-picked flowers, but the girl had also learned that it was alright to pick flowers and to then throw them to the ground where they would die, that it was alright to waste that what God had given them.

He was just about to turn, seeing that mankind would not regard earth God had given them, when another small child came along the path, skipping happily. A child that was wearing ragged clothes, a child that had a dirty face and dirty hands, but the boy stopped by the small bundle of flowers and then he picked them up, sniffing them for a moment before he turned to run back where he had come from, as quickly as his little feet could take him along the path.

He came by a bench where an old woman was sitting, looking old and tired, looking worn and weak, and for a moment the boy stopped, looked down at the flowers he was holding in his dirty little hands, looked then at the old woman with her white hair and the thousands of wrinkles age had ingrained into the old face, but then he took a few of the flowers and approaching the old woman he gave them to her.

The old woman looked up at the child, blinking at first, as if being in shock at the boy who gave away flowers, but then a smile spread over her wrinkled old face and she lifted a just as wrinkled, shaking hand, to run it over the boy's hair and face. Old and chapped lips opened for a word of thanks, still smiling, and the old eyes of the woman came alive once more upon the present she had just gotten from a small child.

The boy waved happily at the old woman before skipping away, further down the path until he reached another woman who wore just as ragged clothes, who looked troubled and worried, and he could see how the boy gave the remainder of the flowers to this woman before running his small arms around her legs.

This woman's face lit up too, at not only the flowers but the boy's embrace too, before she picked the child up and placed him on her hip, gave him a kiss on his dirty cheek and he knew – not all was lost, because there would always be some people, because there would always be people who cared, who cared about each other, who cared about earth, who cared about what God gave them, even though they had nothing, or maybe just /because/ they had nothing, they cared.

And he knew – as much as God had shown responsibility in first creating earth before creating man so that man would have a place to live in, so man was worth that God showed responsibility in caring for earth – even though some men might be slowly destroying earth, the few men who cared about earth were worth God caring for earth too, were worth God cleansing earth and keeping earth from dying. And he knew that – even if it were one man only who cared about earth, then God would show his responsibility towards this one man and he would save earth for all mankind, for the sake of this one man.

End vision

"Sure." James answered, scowling, and he was sure – his disciple already got the idea of what he was to say. "Anything else would be plain stupid because we want the following generations to live here too, after all."

"Exactly." He answered, taking a sip of his tea, emptying the cup and he knew that it was the truth. There might be people in future who wouldn't care too much, who wouldn't think, who would live carelessly and without thinking, but there always would be people, as few as there would be, who would care, who would think before acting, who would follow. "We consider the future of earth and our children. You don't say – I don't care about the upcoming generations, shall they live on a dying earth. No, you care about earth so that all upcoming generations can live on it as well as can you – now, if there is a bunch of righteous men – don't you think that there will be a bunch of righteous men in the future as well? And don't you think that they are worth being saved as much as you are? And so I tell you that my sacrifice will be necessary because every man who can be saved shall be saved, for now and forever."

"You hopefully don't think that this will make it any easier for us." John growled and he knew – the pain John felt at the thought of his departure was as deep as the pain James felt. And as both were fierce, and bolder than the others, more unruly, but more open also – well, it was clear that both would air their displeasure, that both would complain – and thunderously so. Like Zebedee hadn't allowed his sons to leave, just like that, and without giving them a piece of his mind, so he was sure that the sons of thunder wouldn't let him leave, just like that, without giving him a piece of their minds also. And even though he didn't like it one bit, even though he knew that – his Father's will simply had to be done – he knew that James and John needed to vent their pain.

Flashback

Creeping on his stomach towards the edge of the roof he tried to look down without being seen by John with whom he was playing. Yester, after noon, Zachariah had come with Elizabeth, a cousin of his mother, and for a few days even, and they had brought John too – and now they were playing hide and seek. John and he, Jesus, not their parents.

Their parents were grown ups and they were doing boring grown-up-things like talking all day long.

In the morning they'd had breakfast, oven baked bread with honey and raisins, and milk – even though John had made a funny face while drinking his milk, complaining, saying that milk was for babies and saying that he wasn't a baby. He'd told him that his father was drinking milk too, and his father surely was no baby at all!

And then he had asked his mother to pack provisions, because they wanted to travel and so they needed provisions. His father always packed provisions when he was away all day long, after all, and so John and he would need provisions too, because he wanted to go up the big hill behind their house, where the large tree was. He didn't know what kind of tree it was, but it was beautiful and shadowy and it was a long way up there, and it would be strenuous too because it was going uphill all the time.

Sure, they could have just eaten from the fruits of the tree, his mother often had given him when she'd picked some, and so he knew that he could eat them, but that was different. Grown-ups didn't pick fruits to eat on their way, they took provisions.

But then his mother had packed apples and bread in a bag, and a few figs even. He'd been jumping up and down so happy had he been. John had laughed because he'd been so childish, but how could you not being so happy if you got provisions even? Like the grown-ups?

They had been walking to the big tree on the hill behind the house and there they had sat down, playing with the pebbles and the grass, enjoying the sun shining through the canopy of leaves, tiling the shadowed place with small specks of sunshine, and they had enjoyed each other's company. Alright, it wasn't a real hill, his mother had said so a few times whenever she'd taken him there, to pick some of the fruit, and when he'd then complained because his feet got tired. It was a small mound only, his mother always had said, but for him it looked like a big hill anyway.

They had watched the insects moving between the sunny specks in the overshadowed grass, had unpacked their provisions, and even though they'd had breakfast shortly before, they had eaten all of it. Because honestly, when could you say that you had provisions with you? Normally he just went inside the house if he got hungry, to eat an apple or a piece of bread, or a handful of grapes or raisins.

And now they had started to play hide and seek.

John had hid in the old barn at one side of the house, between the sheep and hay, and then he'd sneezed because of the hay and so he'd found him. And now it was his turn to hide.

He'd climbed the roof, using the barrel with water that stood behind the house for help, and from there he'd climbed the windowsill – and from the windowsill he'd then climbed the lower roof of the barn, and from the lower roof of the barn, he'd crept up to the roof of the house. He wasn't so sure about how to get back down, because he'd turned when he'd managed his way up here, and had looked down at the lower roof, the windowsill and the barrel – and suddenly it had looked to be very high and dangerous to him. Climbing up the roof seemed to have been definitely easier than the way down would be – but well, his Father in heaven would provide him with a way to get down safely, he knew that.

Looking over the edge of the roof he could see John searching the yard, looking behind the benches and beneath the table, and knowing that he was safe for some time, that John wouldn't find him anytime soon, he crept back a bit, away from the edge and lay on his back. He placed his arms beneath his head, laying his head on them, and looked up into the blue sky, dreaming away time until John would come up here.

End flashback

John really hadn't found him, but unfortunately neither had their parents, and calling hadn't helped either because he'd fallen asleep on the roof, accidently. It'd been his father, his worldly father, Joseph, who had found him and he'd been in real trouble back then. He'd been very glad that his Father in heaven had indeed provided him with a safe way of getting back down, in form of his worldly father taking him back down, but back then, when he'd been a small child, he hadn't really understood why his Father in heaven hadn't made Joseph less angrier than he had been. Now, as an adult, he knew though – because it had simply been a too dangerous thing to do, climbing the roof.

Not that his parents had ever forbidden him to climb the roof, he'd been five years old only and his parents had surely never thought he would do such a stupid thing – in later years maybe, but surely not at five. But he'd been in trouble anyway because his parents had been so very worried, it was as if they needed to vent their worry with giving him the lecture of his life. Never ever again had he been in as much trouble as he'd been back then.

And well, he even could understand, because his parents had been so very worried, it had hurt them, and the pain needed to go somewhere, the pressure of their worry needed to go somewhere.

"Of course not." He said, locking his eyes with John's. "But your pain won't change the fact that it will be necessary anyway. You need to start a fire if you want to cook, you need to plant an olive tree if you wish to have olives and you need to buy a boat if you wish to become a fisherman. It is as simple as this, and if mankind needs to be redeemed, then my death needs to be the sacrifice for it."

Of course he knew that John understood his sacrifice, and he also knew that the others understood too, that they knew exactly how important it was – and that it was his Father's wish. They just didn't want to understand, they desperately were searching for another solution, even though there was none.

"Has Mark gone to bed, finally?" He asked, hoping to get their minds off their worry.

"Half an hour ago." Peter answered. "And not without me needing to remind him. That boy is a handful, really."

"That he is, indeed." John huffed, shaking his head and he smiled at his disciple. "And now I'll bring this handful here to bed where he belongs to since hours." The man then added, gently shifting the child that was still laying halfway on his lap and halfway in his arms, shifted him so that he could easily lift him up and then he got off the bench, left the small courtyard and carried the boy to the neighbouring house to put him to bed – where indeed, he belonged to since hours.

"Mark is a good boy." He said, giving his attention back to Peter. "But like all boys he needs to learn his responsibilities. That is what the adults are there for, to teach him."

"Sure he's a good boy." Peter nodded his head. "But he's a handful anyway."

"You better get used to having a handful of boy around you." He mused, frowning for another moment before looking up at the sky, his eyes narrowed in concentration, but the only things he could see – were the stars.

"Is there something we should know about?" Peter asked, and he looked back down, watching his disciple that was his rock. For a moment he considered his words, but then he leaned back and relaxed.

"I'm not really sure, but I think that the upcoming weeks will become very interesting." He slowly answered, still not sure about what was to come, nor why his Father would plant the feeling in his heart without giving him details.

But well, what was to come, would come anyway – he would learn of the details the moment they arrived.

"When will you send Mark back home, Peter?" He then asked, still trying to listen into his heart, trying to find an answer to the strange thing he could feel.

"I will bring him over by tomorrow evening." Peter answered and he lifted his eyebrow at him. So far Peter had allowed the boy to walk home by himself, Mark was old enough, after all, the boy was fourteen. "There are a lot of strange folk wandering the outskirts of Jerusalem lately and I don't want the lad walking the streets alone. The feast of Tabernacles is attracting a lot of false healers, charlatans, and other scalawags this year. Not the righteous people you are searching for, Jesus."

"And yet they are but men, walking a wrong path." He said, shrugging his shoulders. "Why don't you lead them on the right path, Peter? They can be saved as much as anyone else, if only there is someone to teach them."

Again there was a shift in his mind, in his heart, a small, little knowledge being placed there by his Father – and he knew, yes, indeed, there would be a storm coming up and he better prepared for more trouble at hand than he had thought might arise – while at the same time he would – with some time and patience given – get a thirteenth disciple.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

To be continued

Next time in … and sit a while with me …

First realizations – or first trouble – will be hitting Hereweald Hrothgar. How will he deal with it?

Added author's note

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …