The Bible says..... As soon as Jesus was baptised, he went up out of the water. At that moment, the heaven was opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting upon him. Matthew 3:16 The truth...... As Jesus came forward, John at first feigned a protest. “The Messiah!” he proclaimed, sinking to his knees in the water. “I am unworthy. I must be the one to be baptised. By your sacred hand.” “No,” said Jesus, standing before him. “It is prophesied. My coming will be heralded by the Baptist. You must baptise me.” Then he threw himself into the water, letting himself be submerged whilst John proclaimed the ritual words. The crowd held a collective breath, the rising wind tearing at their cloaks, and the prickle of electricity in their hair. Lucius too held his breath, straining to watch the proceedings from his stage mark. Timing was everything. And was his father ready for his own modest role? Would he respond to his cue? It was then that timing and sheer good luck came into play, the first flickering lightning from the gathering storm ripping across the sky, bringing an explosive crack of thunder and the first drops of rain. At the back of the crowd Marcus flinched, and for a moment he was disorientated, almost missing the crucial scene. For Lucius had already stepped from his mark, his white cloak flowing and his hood drawn forward to conceal his face. He’d been flanked by Judas and Simon, their own cloaks covering his back until the final moment. Like Jesus had said, they’d been able to take up their marks with ease. “This is my son, whom I love,” Lucius cried, in a booming voice, and with his arms outstretched. “With him I am well pleased.” At once there was panic and confusion, the crowd surging, some forward in wonder, others shrinking back in fear. The words were unmistakeable, even against the wind and the decaying peal of thunder, but the figure in white had then seemed to melt away, leaving only his cloak floating on the water. It was a scene well played, following the many rehearsals, Judas and Simon covering their man from the back and holding the cloak as Lucius slid from beneath it into the water. Then, as Lucius swam below the surface, they’d turned to confront the crowd, reaching towards the sky as if to follow the ascending spirit, apparently overcome with wonder. The birds! Where were they? The zealots were frozen in their pose, their hands shielding their eyes as they looked upwards, desperately trying to cover the awkward break in the scene. In fact, Marcus had been so awestruck by the proceedings that he’d almost delayed too long. But suddenly coming to his senses, and with a well-practised gesture, he threw up his arms and opened the sleeves of his cloak, at the same time crying out his words. “The doves!” he proclaimed, his old man’s voice now a frail imitation of its youthful vigour. “The doves of peace! Behold!” Despite the pandemonium, one of the birds made instinctively for Jesus, perching on his shoulder in a well-trained response. Numerous times, they’d been caged and starved, and then rewarded by Jesus upon their freedom. The people were at first transfixed, before being overcome by an infectious hysteria, men gasping and crying out, others shrinking back, wailing with fear. Then a collective cry rippled through the ranks, spreading outwards from those at the front. “What kind of man is this?” The answer came from John. “Behold!” he cried. “Your Messiah. Go forth and follow him. For he brings the word of God. The only god.” That was another cue, this time the onlookers surging forward, many prostrating themselves at the feet of Jesus, ready to hear the new word. At the rear of the crowd, Marcus fell back, his modest part played out, anxiously scanning the riverbank in his concern for Lucius. The trick had worked well, but the rain was lashing, the river was boiling, and his son was not a strong swimmer.
Posted on: Sat, 29 Jun 2013 21:36:28 +0000
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