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I tried to play the part of the pleasant host, but Simon of Capernaum was increasingly difficult. He was a large oaf of a man, standing a head taller than anyone else in the room, and his chest and belly took up space that could have been allotted to another man or at least to more air for the rest of us to breathe. But his bull-headedness irked me most. Once the man latched onto an idea, he refused to let it.
And it’s not like he was one of the region’s major merchants or especially rich. He was a fisherman! Sure, he ran a very good business, with several boats and experienced crews, and he sold enough fish to be dried at Magdala to support his family and those of all his workers. But he — oh, I just found it frustrating to tolerate the man! He could not read or write, he had never traveled outside Galilee or had much experience dealing with people from outside the region, and he carried the smell of fish with him wherever he went.
But the others hung on his every word as if he had royal blood in his veins. A dozen men from the western side of the Galilee had gathered here, from Chorazin in the north to Tiberius, on the southwest side of the lake. If I wanted to convince the rest of my guests on any point, I first had to sway Simon.
“I don’t see why we don’t just beat the tax collectors and throw them to the dogs,” he was saying. “If they’re robbers, they should be treated like robbers.”
Several of the others buzzed in agreement.
“And while you enjoy taking out your anger on one or two tax collectors, you bring down the wrath of the Roman army on the rest of us,” I countered. I tried to maintain a reasonable tone, though I felt like shouting in his stupid face. “It’s not just one or two men who come to you demanding money, it’s the Emperor demanding money from every single one of us. If you provoke an attack, we all suffer.”
“We’re all suffering already,” he threw back at me. “It’s all very well for you here in your fancy estate with servants doing all your work for you, but the rest of us have to feed our families. When Herod takes our money, then our families have to go without.”
I could feel the heat rising in my face but fought to keep my voice in control. “I have mouths to feed too. You have your family, but I have ten families living here that depend on me. I pay all my workers a decent wage, and I know every one of their children by name. I’m not going to put my people at risk because you want to attack the tax collectors with violence. There’s got to be another way.”
Hadad called out in a falsetto voice, “Oh dear mister tax man, puh-lease don’t take so much of my money. I’ll bake you a cake if you just promise to be gentle with me.” The entire room erupted in laughter at his mockery.
I held up my hands for silence.
“Look, you recall that some time ago I asked you all how much tax Antipas was collecting from you? Well, I worked out the rates. Some of you, he’s taking a tithe. Others, a tithe and a half. Some of the smaller merchants, even more.” I paused and looked at each of them in the eye. “But listen to this. The men I’ve spoken to on the east side of the lake, in the land of Herod Philip, Antipas’s brother, also told me what they are paying — and it’s far less than us. Philip does not levy as high a tax as Antipas. It’s obvious that we are paying for our little Herod’s building projects, and for all the extra soldiers to fight the Nabateans because of his marriage.”
“Then we should beat Herod and throw him to the dogs too,” shouted one of Simon’s friends, drawing laughter.
“Will you stop for just a minute?” I took a deep breath. “Now look. The tax collectors can only impose a levy against what they can see of your belongings, right? Well, what if they can’t see it?”
“You want us to blind them? That sounds more violent than beating them.”
More laughter. I only paused for a moment. “No. What if we moved part of our money into Philip’s territory? The crops you sell, and the goods you import from other regions and sell for a profit. What if we set up a secret exchange to convert a small percentage of that into gold or silver, and then move it to a safe stronghold in Bethsaida? We would only take enough away to make up for the extra tax Antipas is levying.”
Simon, as I might have expected, was the first to object. “Bethsaida’s just over the border. What’s to stop Antipas from sending his men after our money?”
I could not afford to lose patience in front of the others. “Look, you just admitted that it’s over the border. Antipas has already got one war on his hands with the Nabateans, and the Romans are none to happy about it. He won’t dare start another battle with Philip.”
Now Obadiah raised a question from across the room. “But if I move my money out of the country, who is going to guard it for me? How will I know it’s safe?”
Here was the crux of the matter. Here is where my proposal would either find legs to stand or collapse completely.
“I am not going to ask you to just trust me on this. Many years ago, someone who was very close to me used to say, ’Trust me on this.’ I hated it when he said that because I was always afraid he was going to get us in trouble. No, you want something more solid than just trust. So here is what I propose. We will set up a record of your deposits here in Galilee, and then transport the money over the border. There we will place it in a stronghold guarded by someone we all agree on. All of us together will guarantee the deposits of the others, so that all of us will share the responsibility. Our money will be safe if not one of us has more control than the others.”
Obadiah rose from his seat. The wrinkles on his brow and the streaks of gray in his beard made him appear the oldest of all of us. His voice, on the other hand, had a high and nasal tone to it. “Young Judas, it has taken me years to scrape together enough savings to keep my family secure. You have not yet convinced me I should put it all at risk.”
I smiled at this opening he was offering to provide more explanation. “I don’t want you to put it all at risk. In fact, I’m suggesting that all of us only convert a very small portion at first, so that we can test this out to make sure it works. Also, we don’t want to move too much money at once or else Herod would get suspicious. If his income drops too much all at once, he will seek out the reason why. But if it is only a gradual slip, he will not be able to put his finger on the cause.”
Obadiah was still standing. “I see. But keep this in mind, all of you. Herod will consider this treason. If he ever finds out what we are doing, he will brand us as outlaws. And when it comes to collecting taxes, he will have the full might of Rome on his side.”
I was afraid Obadiah’s words would give my guests pause, that they would all quail at the thought of being branded as rebels. But surprisingly, Simon of Capernaum stood in my defense.
“Herod will not have the full might of the Roman army on his side,” he said. “Remember, the Roman army will be fighting the Nabateans. He won’t dare complain to them that they should also fight another battle for him or else Rome will strip him of his tetrarchy and banish him. Or perhaps lop off that silly head of his.”