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The discipline had firmed up his soft flesh even as the
sunlight had steadily converted the dull pallor of his skin into a
handsome bronze coloring. Still, his dreams were often
troubled.
    When he looked up, Uriel was staring at him,
and the old man’s eyes seemed to radiate light. Suddenly, Joseph
made a decision. “How was your walk this morning?” he asked.
    “The smell of great change is in the air, my
young friend,” Uriel replied as he sat down across from Joseph.
    Joseph wasn’t sure what the old man was
talking about, but then he was accustomed to cryptic replies to his
questions. His teachers had often spoken of spiritual matters in
the same manner—always using words that held double meaning.
However, the old man’s words had an astounding affect upon him. An
overwhelming surge of emotion welled up inside of him and,
abruptly, he began to sob.
    Uriel was startled, completely unprepared for
the sudden outburst. Uncertain what to do, he waited patiently for
Joseph to regain control, then handed him a ladle of water from a
nearby bucket.
    Joseph took several sips. “You probably think
me foolish,” he said as he wiped his face on his tunic.
    Uriel remained silent.
    “I was given the opportunity to share in the
life of one who was bound by neither wealth nor poverty, knowledge
nor the lack thereof,” continued the younger man, “and I turned my
back upon that freedom, unwilling to lose that which I perceived to
be of greater value.”
    “And what was that?”
    “Silver and gold.”
    “Aha. . .I see.”
    Joseph took a final sip of water, then handed
the ladle back, taking care not to spill the precious liquid. “Now,
the man is dead,” he added, looking at the old man with moist, red
eyes.
    “Oh?” Uriel poured the remaining liquid into
the bucket without taking any.
    “We awaited His coming for a thousand years
and yet, in the end, we denied Him. Now, the bitter irony of our
apostasy, Golgotha, the place of the skull, shall indelibly mark us
even as Cain was marked for the murder of his brother, Abel.”
    Both men were quiet, pensive, and each seemed
disconnected from the present as they sat facing one another in the
late afternoon stillness, their eyes locked together. There was a
loud pop! from within the fire, and an amber colored slug of
dried sap arced upward and outward, landing between the two
statue-like men.
    “It is not easy to battle wickedness,
especially when one hasn’t seen the enemy,” Uriel said, breaking
the silence. Then, as if reminding himself of something he must not
forget, he added, “And the weapons of our warfare are not of the
physical realm, but mighty through God, that we might pull down the
strongholds of the destroyer and his minions.”
    Joseph had the impression that he and the old
man shared a similar pain. Oddly, he felt that soon he would come
full circle from his mistake in Bethel. “You speak of strange
things,” he whispered, frowning. “And your words remind me of my
time of study with Rabbi ben Hillel. . .in preparation for my bar mitzvah . Yet with him I knew what was expected, what I
was preparing for. But here in this cave, separated from all that I
once held in high esteem, it seems I am isolated from purpose as
well.”
    “What you seek, Joseph is Life and Light.
Life that remains uncaged by the bars of time. Light so pure that
its brilliance knows no limitation.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    Uriel smiled. “Finish your story. If you
still need an explanation after that, then I’ll give you one.”
    He’s doing it again , thought Joseph. Speaking with words that hold double meaning . Still
confused, but, strangely, no longer blindingly frustrated, he
continued where he left off.
    “About the middle of March, my father sent me
to Judea to purchase a new boat for our fleet. I concluded my
business and was waiting for a boat to take me back to Cyprus when
I chanced upon my cousin from Jerusalem, John Mark. As we had not
seen each other for