night studying Torah, as was traditional.
The travelers coalesced around Jesus when he was recognized in the throng. “It’s him, I tell you,” I heard all around. “The rabbi from Nazareth. Let’s follow him.”
As the multitude pressed in, I was glad I had already mentioned Peniel to Jesus. It was getting harder to move with every step.
There were several locations on the Temple Mount where rabbis and other scholars assembled to instruct their disciples. A columned arcade called Solomon’s Portico was one such location. The Temple courts, which contained chambers for wood and spices, and containers to receive offerings, was another.
The building housing the Temple treasury was in the northeast corner of the Court of Women. It was on the top step of the entry to this structure that Jesus sat down to teach. Like waves spreading out from a rock dropped into a pond, concentric rings of onlookers knelt to hear him. The most eager shushed those behind and urged the slower ones in front to sit down so all could see.
“I’ll be right back,” I called as I parted from Jesus.
The blind beggar, Peniel, could always be found on the steps of Nicanor Gate, at the far western end of the same court. Like a lone fish swimming upstream in the face of the living torrent of those moving toward Jesus, I fought my way through the crowd.
I knew it was a Sabbath. I did not think Jesus would want to incur the wrath of the religious authorities by healing on a Sabbath. I just wanted the two to meet. I was certain Jesus would do what was right for the young man.
I could not see through the press of the worshipers, tripled in number as it was on this, the eve of Pentecost.
Behind me I heard Jesus raise his voice and begin to speak: “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth and the truth will make you free.”
At last I reached the shaded niche where Peniel most often sat. The man in the alcove was an older beggar missing his right leg and waving a crutch at the passersby. “Where’s Peniel?” I demanded.
“Who?” he returned.
“Peniel, the blind lad who usually waits in this spot.”
“I don’t know him,” was the reply. “I just got here from Joppa. And a long, weary journey it was too, kind sir, on just one leg and a tree branch. Since it’s the Sabbath, I cannot beg, but if you are moved to help, sir?” The cripple thrust out a wrinkled palm.
“You have not seen a young man, perhaps seventeen or eighteen … blind, as I say … anywhere about this morning?”
The cripple reflected. “The last blind beggar I saw was outside the Golden Gate.”
“Oh, yes,” I returned, feeling relief. “How long ago?”
“An hour. But sir, that man was older than me and could not be the one you seek.” Again the hand flipped over and back, calling attention to the empty, outstretched palm.
I was disappointed and confused. I had felt so strongly that I was being urged by almighty God to bring Peniel and Jesus together. Had I been wrong, or was this a test of the persistence of my belief?
It struck me that while I had come in search of one particular beggar, here was one also in need of meeting Jesus. Perhaps I had been brought to this moment for his sake. “What’s your name?” I asked.
“Jabez of Antioch,” he replied.
“Have you heard of Jesus of Nazareth?”
“The charlatan from Galilee? Is that him over there?”
I looked across the plaza. On both flanks of Jesus’ audience were knots of hecklers: Pharisees in tall headdresses and brocade robes in one group; austere, thin-lipped Sadducees in another; a file of scribes, scholars in the interpretation of religious legal precepts, in a third.
“I assure you, he’s very real,” I corrected.
Jabez made a sour face. “Real or not, and I don’t admit he is, he’s offended the authorities. ‘Have nothing good to say about that Jesus,’ they told me, ‘or out you go.’ You understand my position, sir?”
My frustration was growing even greater. “Wouldn’t you rather be healed? At least see what he can do for you?”
“And lose my livelihood?” Jabez exclaimed. “Would you step aside, sir? The kind gentleman behind you is offering me a penny. God bless you, sir. God bless you.”
Disappointed, I drifted back across the courtyard. At the back of the crowd, Temple police were accosting listeners, demanding names, and making notes