The Gospel of the Twin Read Online Free PDF Page B

were speaking with four white-robed priests. One looked particularly old, and he placed his thin hand upon Jesus’ shoulder, then turned to me. “Ah, you have a twin!” he said to Jesus. Looking to me again, he added, “Are you filled with the same ideas as this one?”
    â€œSir, I must take my brothers to our family,” I said.
    â€œWe must free ourselves from these troubles,” said Jesus, “or we shall have no families.”
    â€œAnd how shall we become free?” another priest asked.
    â€œFreedom is not found in this Temple,” Jesus said. “Too many among you act as if they belong to the Temple and not as if the Temple belongs to them.”
    The man who held Jesus’ shoulder smiled. “You are a clever and forthright boy, but you must be careful how you talk in the house of the Lord.”
    â€œThe Lord’s house is much larger than this,” Jesus said. “It is where we dwell in emptiness—empty hearts, empty stomachs, empty pockets.” Two of the priests drew back their heads and pursed their lips as if they’d smelled something foul. Another’s eyes narrowed and his head tilted as if doubting what he had heard.
    The old priest jerked his hand from Jesus as if it had been burned. “Emptiness?”
    â€œThe Lord dwells here,” said James. “Torah says—”
    The old priest reached out to place a skinny finger to James’ lips. His eyes had not left Jesus’ face. “Is this Temple empty?”
    I saw James clench his fists, and I heard his teeth grind. Jesus was stealing all the priests’ attention, and certainly not in a manner that would please James.
    â€œLet’s go,” I said, pulling my brothers away. Outside the gate, James ran ahead, probably so angry that he couldn’t bear to look at Jesus. I was glad he left us, but I was surprised he hadn’t first struck us both in the stomach.
    â€œWhat were you doing in there?” I asked Jesus.
    â€œI don’t know. I felt compelled to talk to them. Who knows when I’ll have another chance like that?”
    â€œYou were making them angry.”
    â€œThomas, why would they think they have anything to fear from me?”
    We found our family back at the tents. Mother threw her arms around Jesus and sobbed. James joined us more than an hour later. I saw him approaching before the others did, and I tried to make him feel bad.
    â€œMother was worried about you,” I said. “The whole family was.”
    â€œYour mother,” he said. “Your family. You should all tend to yourselves.” He shoved me aside. As he walked past, I stumbled to the ground, and threw a pebble that hit his back, but he didn’t acknowledge it.
    I was sleepless that night. I wasn’t sure exactly why I felt so disturbed. Perhaps I was just overwhelmed by the size of the crowds. Perhaps it was being among so many Romans and afraid that at any moment I might be the recipient of a random blow from a soldier’s lance. Maybe the inscrutable Temple rituals seemed to me like just so many empty words and meaningless, yet no less powerful, operations.
    On the journey home the next day, I tried to make sense of it all in my child’s mind and was vowing to myself that I would never return to this city when my mother took me aside and asked me why Jesus had lingered inside the Temple. I told her what I’d heard him say.
    â€œYou are a gentle boy, Thomas, and so is Jesus, but he’s strong-spirited and doesn’t understand the ways of the world. You are more worldly than he. He needs you to care for him. Can you do this for me?”
    â€œMy brother is a riddle to me, Mother, and I sometimes think he has no concern for the ways of the world. He is as dear to me as my own breath, but how shall I care for him when I cannot understand him?”
    â€œPeople don’t want to think about things as he does. Jesus doesn’t see