Mornings, with Jesus and the Apostles

When Jesus had finished his sermon, the crowd was silent. They sat motionless all along the hill, both in the grass and perched on outcroppings of rocks, trying to understand what it was they had just heard.

Then Peter stood up. "Jesus Christ will now take a few questions from the audience." The rest of the apostles groaned and buried their heads in their hands.

Down below, in the distance a man stood up. "Where I can get one of the special lamps that is a light to the world? Do you sell them? And how many square cubits does it cover?"

"Lamps!" Matthew snapped his fingers. Of course! Souvenirs, mementos! It was so obvious. He turned to the others. "Look, if we could find a nice lamp in town made by a reputable craftsman, we could work out some sort of licensing agreement and then pass it around. What was the rate of production on the loaves and the fishes?"

Peter began counting on his fingers, his brow knitted.

In fact, thought Matthew, this could be a whole new form of manufacturing. They could branch out into sandals, ceramics...anything that could be held in the hand and passed from person to person, potentially. And best of all, they would have a monopoly, because it was clearly accomplished by the power of the Lord. Lord-Power. A new, unlimited source of energy.

But James waved him off. "This is not a commercial opportunity, Matthew. Jesus has come to teach these people."

"Everything is a commercial opportunity!" Matthew retorted. "These aren't the good old days before the Exile when the high priests at the temple stocked the janitor's closets with gold, frankincense and myrrh. It's a Roman world now! I tell you, we've got to integrate our lives and our livelihoods! The two shouldn't be kept separate. If we have a good lighting solution, why shouldn't our friends benefit, and why shouldn't their denarii help our ministry? It's a win-win!"

The crowd, upon hearing this, inclined their heads and nodded, seeing the sense of it. "You know, I wouldn't mind one of those lamps, myself," one said. "Yes, the lamps, give us the lamps!"

"Give us the lamps!" the crowd implored them.

The apostles turned to Jesus, unsure of what to do.

Later, night had fallen, and all of the people who had come to listen had returned to their homes in town. Most were in bed, sleeping, though a few could not sleep and were instead staring anxiously at their ceilings, thinking of their troubles and of what tomorrow would bring. And then there were also the soldiers doing guard duty here and there and at the gate. And then there were merchants, their wagons packed up and now rumbling over the streets, towards the gates. Then the moon went up and it was mostly quiet.

A few doors creaked open. From them ventured some townsfolk, holding their finest lamps, well-stocked with oil. The figures began to wander about in the night, their lamps lighting their way. In the dark streets, they saw the lamps of the others and eventually they all found one another and gathered together.

"Well, here we are!" someone said.

"Yes," said another. "Let our lamps shine forth, as the teacher said!"

Then they held their lamps high, over this way, then over that way, turning around, criss-crossing the street, making sure no square cubit of night air was left untouched by their lamps. Then they regrouped.

"What happens now?" asked one.

"He didn't say," said another.

They stood there for a moment, in a circle, holding their lamps. Then someone said, "We'd better split up. We can cover more ground that way." Everyone nodded in agreement and it was decided that this was the rational course of action. They fanned out through the town, looking for what they didn't know.

One made their way to the town square and began to pace to and fro across its grounds, waiting for inspiration to strike. In a house that bordered the square, the man who could not sleep was staring at a damp spot on his ceiling and developing a new worry about the integrity of his roof when he saw the light pacing back and forth outside his window. Worried, he got out of bed and threw on his night gown and cap.

On the other side of town, another of the townsfolk found themselves at the town gate, which was guarded by a pair of soldiers, who were peering out of the gate at the dark hills beyond. Seeing the approach of a figure with a lamp, they ran over.

"You're just in time," one of the soldiers said.

"I am?" said the figure.

"Yes," the other soldier said. He took the figure by the arm and escorted them to the gate. "We think there is a thief lurking in the hills out there," he explained. "So, take your lamp and wander around out there and try to flush him out."

"Um," the figure said. But they couldn't think of any clear objection. So the gate went up, and the figure was placed outside the gate, lamp in hand. They looked back. The soldiers, nodding and smiling, gestured at the dark hills beyond. Somewhere, an owl hooted. They advanced uncertainly into the hills, lamp held forth.

Back in town, one of the others was walking down a street when they came across a broken down wagon. Its owner, a merchant, was under the wagon, on his back, lying next to one of the rear wheels, groping blindly where it met the axle.

Ah, the figure with the lamp thought, my purpose! They ran over to the merchant, bent down with their lamp and put it next to the wheel.

"Hey!" The merchant said from under the wagon. "Who goes there?"

"I am one of the townsfolk," the figure said. "I have this lamp, and can provide light while you work on your wagon."

"Oh," the merchant said from under the wagon. "That's alright then. But you should've said something first. Anyways, bring it over here, back around. Yes, that's right."

The figure held the lamp, arm outstretched, and provided the light while the merchant worked on the wheel. After about an hour, the merchant had fixed the wagon. As the first glow of morning was touching the sky to the east, they thanked the figure with the lamp, and then the wagon resumed its journey, rumbling over the streets towards the town gate.

Status

Complete.