The Rebels.
This document, written in Western Aramaic, was discovered during an archeological survey being carried out at the Misr Railway Station Car-park in Western Alexandria prior to the construction of a seven acre bus-depot.
The jar which held the scrolls is dated to circa 10 BCE, but the manuscript has been dated to between 55 and 60CE. There is worldwide contention over its authenticity but several researchers and historians are confident that it is a genuine document from that period.
The Vatican has declared the document to be a fake, but has shown extreme interest and is requesting that it be made available for further testing by its own experts. The Egyptian Government has refused to allow the papers to be taken outside the Cairo museum. Copies and translations of it have been banned in several Christian countries.
Translator’s Note
There are already several translations, all held in heated contention. Generous liberties have been needed to translate the document into modern day English since a transliteration of the document would be unintelligible to most Western readers. Its author ‘Matthias’, who was almost certainly an Eastern Aramaic speaking Galilean Jew, wrote this book in Western Aramaic Hebrew with grammatical and spelling errors on nearly every line of the manuscript. It has been my undertaking to translate the Hebrew into idioms of modern English. If I have strayed too far with such liberties then I beg forgiveness.
Doctor L Bartel MA TTSF (Truth Through Science Foundation)
The Beginning
I wonder whether this will survive? I am old and can hardly see, so I have to trust in Matthias who writes for me. I knew and worked with the Genessaret boatmen and want to pass on the true story of these hard men, what they did and the amazing man who led them during their attempted uprising.
Much of this story is based upon the memories of my friend and mentor Cephas, our patron Zeb and of several other people, together with my own experiences, because we were often separated during those months.
And I can also tell you something about the other Yeshua, because one of his comrades, Job, took refuge here where he lived for a time before he died, and it was he who told me about their rebellion, and I have included all in my account.
The priests here are devoted to me and cherish me, and whilst I am indebted to them for their kindness I know that if they find this account then it will certainly be destroyed. Matthias is one of them yet he declares that he loves me and promises to hide copies in many places in the hope that one day, beyond the madness, people might find it. I can only hope and pray that he will succeed.
I must have been so naive to have once believed that humankind is basically honest, true and good, when in fact it is wicked, devious and unbelievably cruel. And yet Yesh, who was our leader in the quest for justice loved every single person that he ever saw and all that he did not, just as Matthias loves his raptors which can kill without a second thought. Yesh saw beauty in us, just as Matthias sees beauty in those amazing birds.
Enough. I wonder if my story will survive?
The Monster
Zeb’s boats were as narrow and long as they could be without attracting too much attention from the officials, because such boats are faster for evading the lake’s watch boats. But just at this time we would have been much safer in a short tubby craft, because a huge monster was caught up in our nets, furiously thrashing about and threatening to turn us over. I don’t know how our flax ropes held together under the strain, or how the cleats which they were belayed to did not tear out of the boat’s gunwales, but somehow all our gear held against the enormous force straining and fighting far below in the black depths. But Yeshua had fitted the cleats… so they would hold!.
Terrified of these Demons that we knew lived down in the deeps we would have cut the lines and got clear, but Yesh’s presence reassured us. If Yesh said that a situation was safe, then it almost certainly was, and Yesh’s only worries were shown by his constant pleas to us to be as quiet as possible. Noise could attract a watch boat, it was an unusually calm night across Genessaret, and sound carries far over still waters.
And so we struggled on defiantly, hauling on the lines until our bleeding hands could reach and haul on the net itself. Farmers grew and harvested the flax. Capernaum wives and their children cut and beat it. Capernaum youths dragged it through nail beds until fine, and then widows drew the strands until they were as thin as hair and spun the threads into yarn. Then the netmakers wove it into lines and tied the fine netting; and that was all that was holding that monster beneath our boat, lunging from side to side and threatening to kill us all. Even courageous Ceph looked worried, and although It wasn’t our net he must have been concerned for his master’s boat and our lives.
But Yesh had suggested to Zeb the boat’s owner, how we could save a young man’s living (who had got himself and now ourselves into all this trouble) and gain him some drachmas out of certain ruin, whilst still earning for Zeb’s boat and crew…. only brilliant Yesh could have thought of such a plan.
This young man had inherited his father’s boat and net, and in proud hot headed arrogance he had declared that he was going to gain his fortune in a single trip by laying his nets out in the deeps where the old hands did not dare to venture. He was going to fill his boat with fish, pay his taxes and be rich! The only problem was that huge demons lived out in the deeps where the old hands would not go, and it was one of these that had got caught up in the nets and dashed the young fool’s hopes. The terrified and dejected lad and his crew had cast the net loose and rowed back to shore so hard that they had worn the skin off the palms of their hands.
Yesh had treated their flayed hands with herbs and ointments, bound them and listened to account’s of how they had been surrounded by Satanic Demons on every side, and their personal bravery in being able to cut free from the nets and save themselves.
Zeb had chuckled throughout Yesh’s description of that conversation, sometimes bursting into loud guffaws of laughter, whilst we boatmen were all very subdued by what we had heard. Then Zeb agreed that Ceph could take out the fast boat to recover net and dispose of the catch, but Yesh would need to be aboard to subdue any demons, and since we had all seen him subdue others before, we reluctantly agreed to do it.
It’s very dangerous to fish the depths, not only because of the satanic monsters below but because any watch boats that see a fishing craft working off station will seize it and may even confiscate it. The officials of the lake make good money at the expense of hard worked fishers. But fortunately they were just as terrified of demons as us.
Yesh had wandered along the shoreline for the first time many summers before, offering his own make of net needles in bone, and since all the fishermen needed good needles he was soon a popular worker around Capernaum. Zeb soon took on Yesh as his general craftsman, making everything from stone anchors to spars and carrying out repairs to the boats. His ideas about spars that doubled as oars and secret thole-pins allowed Zeb’s boats to be much faster whilst still seeming to keep within the Lake’s rules. Yesh was a very valuable colleague and friend, and when he showed how he could cure illnesses, deseases, wounds and even cast out demons from folks, it proved there was something powerfully special about him.
And now here we were, in the middle of the lake in the darkness, fighting to haul in that net in as much silence as possible, while worried Ceph threw himself from one side to the other to keep the boat upright… and Yesh just sitting there, so calm and confident.
And up came the monster, thrashing on the surface, the greatest demon-fish anybody had ever seen before, longer than any man and twice as heavy, it’s great maw of a mouth opening and closing could have taken a man’s head. And Yesh leaned over, grabbed its lower jaw and with Cephas and Andrew they dragged it over the side onto the deckboards where it thrashed and fought.
Yesh called out a chant to it, something like ‘Come out! …. leave!’ and as he did so he clubbed the great beast over the head with an anchor-rock and it lay still. He told me later that the fish themselves are not demons, but that demons invade them. We crew all retreated to the boat’s gunw’les and stared in horror at the beast.
‘Phew!’ gasped Andrew, Ceph’s older brother.
‘What now?’ asked Philip.
Ceph didn’t answer, he just stared at the beast still slightly quivering on the bottom boards, and it was Yesh who answered.
‘Down to the Gadarenes, Ceph? It’ll fetch good money down there.’
Ceph nodded his head slowly, and then sat up, ‘Yes…. let’s get on with it. We might as well benefit from tonight lads, but let’s not get caught, eh?’
‘Young Mark!’ Ceph called to me, ‘Help Philip to clear the net and fold it; we’ll see how bad the damage is in the morning.’
The crew shipped the extra tholes, hung the oars and we began the long pull to the South East. I had only been on Ceph’s boat for one week and every day had been exciting, but this was my first night run. I thought that I would spend my whole life on Genessaret, but that was not to be…… At that time I had no idea about just how famous Yesh and the crew would soon become.
(Discussion in ‘Member Writing Forum‘ started by badger 31/03/2022)
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