Freedom Bound
GENERAL
Mayowa Ojo
6/10/20265 min read
I was seven years old when my father first took me to a Rabbi to teach me the Torah. I was excited because of the knowledge I would gain. Someday, I will be like father, I mused.
Father was considerably respected in our community for he knew the Torah and The Commandments and was an ardent follower of same. I once asked him why he would not teach me the Torah himself since he knew more than most Rabbis but he assured me that it was better I started without him because he was always so busy.
By the time I was twelve, father and I would sit in front of the house in the evenings, him querying and me answering his questions like my life depended on it. I needed to prove my worth.
When I was twenty-one, I was knowledgeable enough to defend myself in any court for I had learnt both the Laws of Moses and of the Land. I was on my way to becoming one of the finest young men with a bright future lit by my education with the Sanhedrin but something still did not sit right. I struggled with some of the demands of the law and when I mentioned these to father, my complaints were met with disappointment and a stern disapproval. He told me to go and make a few sacrifices to atone for my thoughts and admonished me to do more.
I could never wrap my mind around this God who was so powerful yet required such ceremonial activities from me but there were not enough young people my age to share my musings with and the older ones were better at the whole workings than I was.
I could never be too sure if the struggle I faced with obeying every single rule in the books was personal or not but I sensed strongly that I was not alone.
Then I heard about Jesus. I take that back… Then I heard Jesus. I’d been hearing about him for years but as soon as I was old enough to wander without being questioned about my movements, I found myself sneaking away several times just to hear him speak.
He spoke and taught so much that it amazed me how one man could know so much. His wisdom seemed inexhaustible and the authority with which he spoke was captivating. He spoke of a freedom that was in some way similar to the limitations of the Law yet different in nature. I struggled with accepting this freedom because it went against everything I knew yet it seemed built on the foundations of all I knew. The day I was found out and called to face a panel for going to listen to Jesus teach, I put up a straight face and accused my unnamed accusers of doing same. There was no way for them to have seen me if they were not there themselves but because I knew this would not go unquestioned, I subtly stated that I was only there to find faults in Jesus. He was responsible for a new wave of teachings that claimed the Laws of Moses as foundation but barely shared any resemblance.
The day I was found out and called to face a panel for going to listen to Jesus teach, I put up a straight face and accused my unnamed accusers of doing same. There was no way for them to have seen me if they were not there themselves but because I knew this would not go unquestioned, I subtly stated that I was only there to find faults in Jesus. He was responsible for a new wave of teachings that claimed the Laws of Moses as foundation but barely shared any resemblance.
My punishment, after stating my case, was to join the band responsible for enforcing the Laws. Father had warned me to study hard so I would never belong to this group. He referred to them as the ones who sniffed out society’s mess and said I was too intelligent for that. My heart broke when I saw father’s face fall at the hearing but there was little either of us could do.
And off I was, accusing people of their sins and jointly meting out commensurate punishment. I will be honest and say on some days it felt good to catch people but only because it did not feel fair that they were sinning and trying to get away with it while some of us struggled to keep it together.
I soon found that the group had moles in different places snooping out sinners or planting them as traps. The latter did not sit well with me but the consensus was that anyone who fell for the trap was as guilty as though none had been set!
On this fateful day, we laid an ambush and waited for Mary. We’d heard about how husbands found their way to her home to find out what made her bed so special. When our mole went in, we only waited long enough for them to be wrongfully positioned before we barged in.
We ensured enough of us saw them and could testify against her if it came to that but there was no need. Her case was easy. Fornication. Punishment? Death by stoning!
We dragged her out and formed a huge circle around her. Simeon, the oldest of the group read out what the Law of Moses commanded. I suspect that he read not because he did not know it by heart but because it was a part of his act to drive in the guilt even further.
From nowhere Jesus walked into the centre of the circle and stood beside Mary. I’ll give it to him, he did a smart thing. He knew that if he had stood in front of her, he would have been stoned as well for obstructing justice. So he stood close enough to get hit should the rocks start flying but far enough to not be seen as obstructing justice.
“Do you stand in her defence?” Simeon asked Jesus.
Jesus ignored him, walked forward so that he stood between Simeon and Mary. He squatted and began to write on the ground. At first we turned our heads to try to make sense of it and then it dawned on us. He was writing all the sins that had consequences, from the very big ones to the smallest ones. As we read, we saw a reflection of ourselves in those words. As he wrote I felt something course through my veins; it was as convicting as it was soothing.
“If any of you is without sin, let him cast the first stone,” Jesus said, staring into our faces.
He turned around and walked back to where Mary stood.
How a man’s words can both threaten and liberate at the same time was an art I would give anything to learn or understand. In his words, like I’d found in previous times, was a liberty so surreal. How is it possible that I’m bound by the very freedom you teach? I mused.
Simeon was the first person to leave. His fury was tangible but he had no wisdom or argument against that one statement. Once he left, the elderly ones left and eventually so did the rest of us. I was probably the last to leave but it was not because I was holding on to an ideal. I was sold on this Jesus.
I stood there and stared at him, the closest I’d ever been to him and I wanted to run to him and ask to become one of his disciples. I wanted to know what he knew, exude the confidence he did and ooze of the compassion he shared every time he looked out into a crowd or a person’s face.
But I turned and walked away. This will not be the last time we see Jesus, I told myself, but first, a few things I need to do.
I went home with determination to plan my exit from the sect. I had no idea how I would do that or how I would face father and tell him Jesus’s ways were what my heart longed for. But as surely as the sun would rise at dawn, I knew it would not be long before I left