For the next few days, I followed Jesus, listening to his words, trying to understand the incomparable mercy he'd shown to Mikal. Were our places reversed, I would gleefully have destroyed her.

A shiver passed through me at what he could have done, the opportunity he'd had to use her against me. All he'd have had to was uphold the Mosaic law, and Mikal would be in sheol right now.

Cleverly, though, he'd saved her without denying the law.

I came to him at the end of the day, when he went off by himself to pray and made myself visible to him.

"Can I ask a few questions before you get too deeply into your prayers?"

He nodded.

"I don't understand what happened yesterday. Why didn't you simply uphold your own law? Are you doing away with it?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Suppose there was a city with many people. Imagine it to be a wise and prosperous city. One year it experiences a famine. Due to poor planning, the grain stores are insufficient and starvation sets in.

"Now consider that the city is beset by raiders, slowly losing its defenders to constant attacks."

Of course he wouldn't answer directly. Always it was parables. That was okay, though. I'd learned to accept it.

I nodded. "Okay. That's not hard to imagine at all."

"Next, imagine that a king comes, asking to rule the city. He arrives with abundant food, builders to repair the city walls, new bows, and fine horses. He is known to the people as a wise and fair man, merciful and just. What will they do when comes to them and asks them to become his children?"

"Well, I suppose, the people would come out in great numbers, dressed in their finest clothes. They'd cheer and throw palm branches at his feet or something. They'd be overjoyed to accept."

Jesus nodded.

"I was proud of you, Darius, when you gave your heart to Mikal. Long have I watched your existance in sorrow, hoping for you to accept me."

One always had to think on their feet with Jesus. "So, I am the city, starving for time with Mikal. You are the king come to save me--or us or whatever. You want me to surrender to you, and do so with cheers and palm branches."

I struggled with this. What was Jesus trying to tell me?

It seemed too much. Everything about him was a puzzle and a riddle. He was the prophesied conquerer, but he carried no weapons and neither did his followers. Whenever anyone asked him about the Roman occupation, he avoided the question, often giving the impression it was unimportant.

"You are a conquerer after all," I said. "But mercy and healing are your weapons."

To this Jesus said nothing, which is about as close as he ever came to acknowledging anyone's interpretation of his parables.

"But will you conquer all of Rome with such weapons?" I asked.

He laughed. "Go on. I need my time in prayer now. I will speak to you tomorrow."

And so I left him, pondering his mirth. Had I said something funny. What was I missing?

I went to Mikal. She was helping the other women prepare what food they had for an evening meal. I watched her work, her and all the other prostitutes and sinners.

Ahirat, the woman who'd poured perfume on Jesus feet, came to her and said, "I thought Jesus was supposed to be a conquerer. Will he, one day, lead us in battle against the romans?"

Mikal, my Mikal, laughed in response. "How many of his followers are Romans?"

When the other woman held up her fingers to count. Mikal reached up and pushed them down. "Don't you see? He is conquering them with his teaching and his love. He will not only overthrow Rome, but all the world."

A wry smile came to herself. "Maybe sheol as well."

The thought startled me. And how was it, that Mikal, a mortal, could grasp what I could not with all my wisdom and long existance?

It occurred to me that the king in Jesus' parable did not come seeking power at all, not as much as the love of the city he came to save.

And what of the Mosaic Law? Did he wish to conquer that, too? No, I decided. The law was the famine and the raiders. It prepared the city to accept the king--it was there to teach us how inadequate we were and how much help we needed.

What was this strange teaching and message? Yes, I could see a thread of it in the teachings that had gone before, but there had been nothing like it before. It explained so many about the strange way Jesus worked, and yet it so many remained.

Maybe it was possible, I realized, that God had a reason for what he did that I--perhaps all of the fallen--failed to comprehend.

It wasn't a terribly new thought, of course, but it felt new. For the first time, I thought there might actually be an answer even though I failed to see what it was.