The Flower Garden

“Sir? A moment of your time?” 

Caleb glanced up to find Saar in the doorway, clutching a worn account book to his chest. Pushing his ledger to the side–and nearly upsetting a stack of jeweled veils–Caleb nodded. “Go on.”

“The last wagon has just arrived, sir. Would you like to oversee the unloading process?” 

Caleb closed his eyes, puffing out a breath. “I don’t think I have the time, Saar. I still have this whole lot to inventory and add to the ledger.” He jabbed his quill in the direction of a stack of crates. The rest of the boxes sat in various places around the room, serving as tables for whatever artifacts he’d decided to keep for himself. He would find better places for them eventually, or build himself a bigger office so he had room to store them all. 

Saar chewed on his lip. “Shall I send someone else to assist you?”

“No, that’s quite alright.” Caleb waved a dismissive hand. “Just keep the rest of the crates in storage until I can deal with them.”

Saar nodded and, after a moment’s hesitation, bowed and left the room. Caleb shook his head, watching him go. The man had come highly recommended, but he was clearly struggling to adjust to this new lifestyle. That, and all of Caleb’s Jewish customs, which had clearly caused him discomfort at first.

Caleb shook his head and leaned against the table. His ornate, spruce-wood table from the southern regions of India. It had taken him years to track it down. His eyes found the crates, and he let out a sigh. Despite what he’d said to Saar, he would have loved help going through the boxes. He just couldn’t trust the other servants to know what he’d want to keep. 

“Adoni, You’ll have to help me,” Caleb murmured, pushing to a stand and rounding the table to face the crates. “There’s just too much to handle today…” Too much to handle, and not nearly enough artifacts. Maybe the next wagon would have a better haul?

Just as he was shifting the first crate lid, another knock sounded at the door. 

“Caleb? Are you in there?”

That voice sounded familiar. Caleb shoved the lid to the side and turned with a grin to find exactly who he’d expected–his closest friend, Amos. “There he is! Good to see you. What–”

“Have you heard the news?” Amos interrupted, eyes dancing.

“What news?” Caleb froze, then put his hands on his hips. “Are you engaged to Leah?”

“What?” Amos started, then waved a hand. “No, no. The news of Jesus!”

“Gossip, Amos?” Caleb moved back towards his box and pulled the first item–a vase of twisted gold and blue–out for inspection. It looked to be first class, but not something he needed in his home. He set it to the side. “You know what the book of Ben Sira–”

“It’s not gossip!” Amos cried, wringing his hands. “I mean–not in that way–why are you so blasted particular sometimes?” He held up a hand as Caleb opened his mouth to recite Deuteronomy 11:1 . “Never mind. Don’t answer that. Just listen–”

“I’m not interested in hearing–”

“It ISN’T GOSSIP!” Amos slammed his hands down on the table, sending items rattling back and forth. “Jesus–”

“Careful, man!” Caleb lunged forward, catching an especially delicate statue of Moses in his palms. “I’ve only had this a few months.”

Amos didn’t look the least bit apologetic. “You’ve too much clutter anyways. It isn’t neat. How can you stand to have it around?”

“I rather enjoy ‘having it around’.” Caleb carefully placed the statue back in its place beside his jeweled Torah scrolls. “Now, if you’ve nothing else to do besides tell tales–”

“He cured a boy possessed of a spirit.”

Caleb’s head snapped around. “Say again?”

“This Man–this Jesus–cured a possessed boy. Just a few days ago.” Amos looked around, then lowered his voice. “They’re saying…they’re saying He might be the Messiah.”

The Messiah. May Adoni be praised! Caleb sat down on one of the closed crates. “Tell me more. What else do you know of Him?”

“Not much–I’ve been trying to find out.” Amos began listing the facts on his fingers. “He’s gathered quite a following, and the Pharisees are growing concerned. John the Baptist called Him the ‘Lamb of Adoni’…oh, and He’s from Nazareth.”

“Nazareth?” Caleb’s face twisted. “Can anything good come out of…but never mind. John the Baptist believes Him to be the Messiah?”

“Yes, or so everyone says.” 

Caleb leaned back against the crates. “‘A voice shall arise in the desert crying ‘prepare ye the way of the Lord’’…”

“You’re quoting again.”

“John was that voice, Amos! I’ve said that from the beginning. John is Elijah, for all intents and purposes. And if he believes that Jesus is the Messiah…”

Amos rolled his eyes. “It’s just a bit of gossip!” At Caleb’s look, he cleared his throat. “Er…it’s just a story. Come on, the Pharisees don’t even like him! They’re supposed to be the ones who know these kinds of things.”

Caleb was hardly listening. If John the Baptist believed in this Jesus…and if Jesus really had cured a boy…Caleb shifted to his feet. 

“You’re getting that look.” Amos narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like it when you get that look.”

 “I have to see him.” Caleb snapped back into himself and moved towards his desk. 

“What?” 

Caleb called for Saar, then opened a drawer and pulled out his coin purse, hefting it in his palm. Yes, that should be enough to get him to– “Where did you say Jesus was?” 

“Caesarea Philippi, but Caleb–” Amos caught him by the arm. “You don’t honestly mean that you’re going to go see Jesus, do you?”

“Of course!” Caleb tugged his arm free. “He could be the Messiah, Amos. I need to speak with Him.”

“And what could you need to speak with the Messiah about?” Amos motioned around the room of trinkets. “You’re no warrior. Unless you want to trade with Him…”

Saar appeared in the doorway. “You called, sir?”

“I’m making a journey. Prepare the carriage and four servants to go with me.” Caleb sidestepped Amos and ushered Saar into the hallway. 

Saar complied, looking hesitant. “May I ask…where you’re going, sir?” 

“To see a Man called Jesus.” Caleb glanced back at Amos, who still stood inside the office, dumbfounded. “Are you coming?”

“Am I–this is madness! Of course I’m not coming!” Amos folded his arms. “Even if this Jesus is the Messiah–which I highly doubt, by the way–I have no desire to have Him list my sins off before me. You know I have many.”

“Don’t we all?” Caleb shrugged a shoulder. “But suit yourself.” He turned to Saar. “I plan to leave as soon as possible.”

“What’s the news?” Caleb asked Isaac as the driver returned to the carriage with his report. 

“Jesus is here, sir. He’s…” Isaac glanced back over his shoulder. “He’s blessing children.” 

“You can see Him?” Caleb shoved open the carriage door and leapt to the ground. Yes, there He was, speaking with a small girl as about twenty others sat around Him like little lambs. 

Shepherd the people with your staff, the flock of your inheritance.

All of a sudden, one of the children said something, and they all scampered to their feet. Jesus smiled, watching them as they rushed off in the direction of the village. 

He’s the Messiah. Caleb took a deep breath. He has to be. 

Jesus turned to one of the men who stood near and spoke a few words Caleb couldn’t catch. The man shouted something to the others, and then…they began to walk off in the opposite direction of the children. 

They were leaving. 

Caleb took off running. “Teacher!”

Jesus didn’t seem to hear, for He kept walking. 

Picking up speed, Caleb circled in front of them. Seeing him, Jesus stopped, tilting His head as Caleb approached.

Thank You, Father. Caleb drew to a stop before Him and dropped to his knees. “Good teacher,” he panted. “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” 

“Why do you call me good?” Jesus motioned for Caleb to stand. “No one is good but Adoni alone.”

But You are Adoni. Caleb bit back the words, searching Jesus’ face as he stood. He was. Wasn’t He?

Jesus watched him for a long moment, then smiled. “You know the commandments: ‘You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, you shall not defraud, honor your father and mother.’”

Caleb bit his lip. That couldn’t really be everything, could it? He was missing something. He had to be. “Teacher, all of these I have kept since I was a boy.”

Jesus watched him for a long moment. Caleb kept his eyes locked onto Him, but his mind was spinning. If all he had to do was keep the commandments, his life should be perfect already. And it wasn’t perfect. 

Please, Father, show me the right way.

After another moment, Jesus nodded and folded His arms. “One thing you lack. Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”

Sell everything? Caleb’s face fell. But surely…not everything. A man needed some things to live on, surely. And what was life without something to make you smile every day? There was no reason to get rid of his belongings. Why should they matter so much to Adoni? 

Jesus kept watching him. He seemed sympathetic. Like He already knew what Caleb would say. But…why was Caleb the one who had to give up everything? And for what–living on the ground in a tent, watching children all day long? Was there even value to such a life?

“There’s more value to it than you could believe.” Jesus said, putting a hand on Caleb’s shoulder. Caleb started. Of course Jesus would know his thoughts. This Man was the Messiah. 

The Messiah he couldn’t follow. 

The realization slammed into Caleb with the force of a brick wall. He couldn’t follow Jesus. He had his house, his treasures, his friends. He had a whole life waiting for him just forty miles away. He wouldn’t…couldn’t…give that up. 

“I’m sorry.” Caleb dipped his head, then turned, twisting out of Jesus’ grasp and walking back towards the carriage. Isaac held the door open for him, giving him a curious look as he did. Caleb simply waved a hand. “Home please, Isaac.”

He couldn’t deal with explaining this right now, if he even could have found the words to explain. All he knew was that the Messiah had come…and he couldn’t follow him. 

“How was your journey, sir?” 

Caleb shoved his cloak into Saar’s hands and stalked past him into the house. The long journey had been tedious enough. Did he have to explain his actions to everyone? What were they entitled to know?

“Sir?” Saar didn’t take the hint, following him down the hallway. “Could you not find Him?”

“Oh, I found Him.” Caleb muttered. He stopped in front of his office. “I want to be alone. Have no one disturb me.”

Saar’s “Yes, sir” was cut sharply off as Caleb slammed the door. The prolonged time alone in the carriage, which he once would have used for prayer, had only served to increase his annoyance. He couldn’t approach Adoni, not after meeting Jesus. What if Adoni was angry? But why should He be angry? He was the one asking Caleb to give up his entire life! 

But what if it really was the way to be happy?

And there he was, stuck in the same loop he’d been stewing in for the past four weeks as the carriage bumped its way along. It just wasn’t fair. He’d always done the right thing. Why was he being punished like this?

Jesus had to have been wrong. The way to Heaven was simply like the Pharisees had said: follow the law, obtain the Kingdom. 

But Caleb had always lived by those rules, and he was still missing something. 

Did that mean Jesus was right?

Caleb groaned, tearing his hands through his hair and stumbling across the room. No. Jesus had to be wrong. Nothing the Messiah could possibly say would inflict this much turmoil in a person. 

But Jesus was the Messiah. 

“ARGH!” Caleb spun around, kicking one of his prized crates. The wood split with a satisfying crack, sending straw padding spilling to the floor. Caleb gave it a few more kicks for good measure before throwing himself into his chair and leaning against the table with a groan. 

Another crack. 

Caleb’s head snapped up just as the entire table buckled towards one corner and collapsed. His candle–lit by a servant upon his arrival, most likely–tipped and fell to the floor, rolling directly into the dry straw. 

Two seconds later, the entire crate was up in flames. 

“Fire.” The words came out in a whisper, and then a surge of panic seized him. His possessions. His treasures. “FIRE! SAAR! ISAAC! SOMEONE!”

The flames leapt onto one of the room’s support beams, leaving scorched black marks in its wake. There was a creak, then a pop, and the crate burst apart, sending burning debris flying throughout the room. 

Another crate caught fire. Then, in the corner, a curtain. 

The whole house was going to go up in flames. 

Caleb dropped to the ground next to the nearest crate and began piling belongings into his tunic. Behind him, the door burst open, and Saar shot into the room.

“Quick!” Caleb coughed, waving his hand in front of his face. “Help me! Grab more!” 

“What–” Saar’s face twisted into what Caleb was almost willing to call a snarl. “This is ridiculous. You are ridiculous!” He grabbed Caleb’s arm and yanked him to his feet, sending Caleb’s treasures scattering across the floor. 

“What are you doing? You’ll break them!” Caleb tried to lean back down, but Saar tightened his grip, hauling him toward the door. 

“Pull yourself together! Those are not worth your life.”

“But they are my life!” Saar had gotten them out into the hallway by now. The room was thick with smoke, and three of the four walls were already black and burning. Caleb wrenched his arm free of Saar’s grip and turned back to the door. “What else is there, anyways?”

“For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light.” Saar said. 

Caleb froze at the doorway, smoke stinging against his eyes as he turned back. “What?”

“You quoted that to me once. From your Torrah.” Saar’s face was sad. “It seems to me that you don’t truly believe in it, though.”

Believe it…what was that supposed to mean? 

There was a crack from behind him, and Caleb whirled around just in time to see one of the roof’s beams collapse inward, smashing right through one of the crates. 

All of his belongings. All of his treasures. 

For with you is the fountain of life. 

Saar took his arm again, and this time Caleb didn’t fight as his servant pulled the both of them out of the building. His mind was stuck on what Saar had said. So stuck that he barely paid any attention as his servants formed a line and began to douse the fire. He didn’t even react when Saar came and told him that the last sparks were out and some of hte house could be saved. 

It seems to me that you don’t truly believe in it. 

He believed the Torrah. Of course he believed the Torrah! It was the Word of Adoni! What self-respecting Jew wouldn’t believe it?

For with you is the fountain of life.

What could have possibly made Saar think–

Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.

Oh. 

He’d completely missed the point, hadn’t he?

The Messiah had asked him to give up everything. To live like a poor man. And Caleb had refused it. 

Why? Because he had placed his life in his treasures instead of in the Creator. And wasn’t that the definition of idolatry? The very thing Adoni despised the most?

“Master Caleb,” Saar said softly, snapping Caleb’s attention back to the present. “I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, but I thought you’d like to know what the servants have just reported. They say that most of the crates from this month were never inventoried. They were kept in the store house, and they are completely safe.”

Completely safe. Caleb drew in a deep breath. His treasures were safe. He wouldn’t lose any business. 

But…

Come, follow me.

Caleb took another breath, then drew himself upright. “How much profit do you think we have stored?”

Saar blinked. “I–perhaps six hundred denarii, sir. Maybe more.”

“Excellent.” Caleb stood up and brushed his hands together. “I want you to sell it all. And whatever’s left in the house.”

Saar stared at him. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t understand.”

“Sell everything, and find me families who need the money.” Caleb glanced around at the small gathering of servants who were watching them. He would have to make sure they were all paid their month’s wages…and see if he could find them suitable homes to serve in. Maybe Amos would take a few of them in. “Once that’s finished, call for a carriage.”

“A–but where are you going, sir?”

Caleb smiled and clapped Saar on the shoulder. “To follow the Messiah.”