Samara ran across the old Hebrew quarter to Avigail and Esau’s home. Her radical friends could wait. She had heard that the Hebrew Christianos met weekly there on that day. I’ve got to escape the marriage plans my family has laid for me. Maybe there really are Hebrew-Christian nations in Africa. Who knows? Maybe these eccentrics who meet today can tell me something about those faraway tribes. There are many legends about them. Might I escape to such a foreign place and start a new life?
She found the street-gate to the Christianos’ house standing open. That was odd. Anyone could just walk in.
Crossing the courtyard and entering the spacious front hall, she was surprised to see men and women mingling freely. She couldn’t recall ever seeing a public meeting of Hebrews where the genders were not separated by a wall, or at least a curtain.
A dozen people stood in a cluster, listening intently to a dark-haired woman. Samara recognized her with disdain. This was Avigail, and she was a leader of the cult.
Avigail lived in this house with her husband Esau; however, she, rather than Esau, ran these meetings. These people may be cultists, Samara thought, but maybe I shouldn’t think so ill of them. At least they permit a woman to use her abilities. My family plans to stop me from using mine.
Brusquely going to Avigail’s side, Samara interrupted her conversation, saying, “I must speak with you briefly.”
Avigail, startled, exclaimed “Oh!” You’re Samara beth Isaac. I’m surprised to see you here. Well, welcome, sister.” Avigail took her hand.
“I’m not your sister,” said Samara evenly, withdrawing her hand. “I’m a Hebrew. Tell me, what are you?”
She shrugged. “Just a different sort of Hebrew. I’m glad you’ve come. I never met you, Samara, yet I know about you. Who in Jerusalem doesn’t?”
She laughed. “Yes, I’m notorious. But so are you and your husband. You and Esau are Christianos, or whatever you call yourselves.”
“That’s right. Tell me, what are people saying about Esau and me these days?”
“Some act as if you no longer exist. Some denounce you, call you dirty.”
“But Samara, you know that many people in Jerusalem see you that way, too.”
The remark stung like a slap in the face. Yet Avigail hadn’t seemed to say it with malice. “They criticize me,” Samara said, “because I haven’t married.”
“Also because you soil yourself, as they say, with trade and commerce.”
Her resentment flared up. “That’s only because I’m a woman. No one says that doing business makes men unclean!”
“And no matter what they say about Esau and me,” said Avigail evenly, “being Christian does not make us unclean, either.”
Falling silent, Samara paused, feeling shame welling up. Finally she said, “You’re right. It’s too easy to get pulled into prejudice. I’m sorry I looked down on you.”
“Thank you, I’m glad you’re beginning to see a larger picture, Samara.”
“Your home. It’s so large and beautiful. Has it always been in your husband’s family?”
“It’s not his house, it’s mine. My husband lives here by my choice and permission.”
Samara’s jaw dropped. “A married woman owning a house?”
“I inherited the house from my father. He willed the house to me because he had no sons. But I was unmarried then, and according to Hebrew law, if I took the house, I was obliged to marry, and my husband would have to be a member of my clan, so that the house would stay in the family. Yet instead, I followed my heart, Samara. Do you believe in following your heart?”
“It’s dangerous for a woman. But what did you do?”
“I became a Christian and married Esau. He’s Hebrew, but not of my clan.”
“So let me understand. You broke the Hebrew law, and no one’s taken the house from you. How can that be?”
“I protected myself. I invited a Roman couple to live with Esau and me.”
Samara paled, “You have Romans living in your house?”
“Yes. When my uncles and cousins filed a demand for my house with the Roman Legate, I invited a Roman Christian couple to move in with us. That ended the dispute, as far as the Legate was concerned. He refused to hear the case. The rabbis oppose us, yet they have no authority in Jerusalem. No civic authority, anyway.”
“So Legate Severus Valerius let you keep your house?” Avigail nodded.
So this is how Valerius is helping Hebrews – he helps them get around the Hebrew laws. Or is he just partial to helping Christians? She grimaced. “I don’t see how you can live with Romans.”
Avigail laughed. “They do have strange eating habits, yet I still keep my house kosher.”
“You do? Why? Is that a Christian rule – to keep a kosher house?”
“Myself, I stay kosher because I believe it pleases the Lord. Yet I feel that a Christian has to learn to live with anybody, anybody at all. Syrians – ”
Samara felt nauseous, imagining living with pork-eaters.
“Germans – ”
“Stop. I don’t know if I could bear such a life. Those people are so different from us. And another thing. How is it that men and women mingle together here at your meeting?”
“Why not? There are no Christian rules against it.”
Samara pondered for a moment, then said, “Perhaps that’s a good change. It might lead to more freedom for women. There is one thing else I must know. Have you ever seen Africans here at your meeting? Either Hebrew or Christian?”
“Not that I recall.” Samara’s heart fell. From the corner of her eye, she saw a large man slip in the door and stand against the back wall. He was wearing coarse worker’s garb. It was Valerius!
She felt the anger rise in her heart. He had no right to follow her like this. “Excuse me,” she said to Avigail, and started towards him through the crowd.
Just then, a murmur arose, and heads turned to the door. Three people, two men and a woman, had arrived, each carrying several stuffed canvas bags. They were foreigners. Definitely not Hebrews. Their garb looked Greek.
Samara turned away from Valerius, quickly moving back toward Avigail. The murmur was becoming heated