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121 pages

English

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Jesus: a towering figure in the story of western civilization. A genius, a fiercely intelligent and creative individual, an exceptional strategist and born leader; a man possessing the rarest of spiritual gifts, a remarkable teacher and gifted healer, but here revealed, not as a divine or unreachable being, but as a 'man'.
A man who lived through the occupation of his homeland, and faced mounting persecution and astonishing self-doubt to lead his people in a new way. His determination to unshackle religious doctrine and tear down the established hierarchy deemed him radical by Rome and eventually led to his downfall.
But his story did not end with crucifixion, for despite the false mark of history, he did not die on the cross. Those that called him ‘Saviour’ rallied, and saved him.
This is his true story.
In this story, Jesus emerges as a figure astonishingly more remarkable ‘because’ of his humanity.

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Philosophie et théologie

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Publié par	Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
Date de parution	10 décembre 2020
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781398400443
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0175€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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T HE G REATEST S TORY E VER T OLD
T HE L IFE OF J ESUS, H EIR OF D AVID
A.H. Aleksanian
Austin Macauley Publishers
2020-12-10
The Greatest Story Ever Told About the Author Dedication Copyright Information© Acknowledgement Chapter 1: The Law Chapter 2: The Cistern Chapter 3: Herod Chapter 4: The Council Chapter 5: Shepherd at the Cistern Chapter 6: The Traveller Chapter 7: Herod Chapter 8: The Queen’s House Chapter 9: The Birth of Jesus Chapter 10: The Shepherd at His Watch Chapter 11: The Magi Chapter 12: The Wrath Chapter 13: Childhood Chapter 14: Separation from Queen’s House Chapter 15: Oasis Travel to Jerusalem Chapter 16: Jesus Walks for Solitude Chapter 17: Down the Shoulder Scree Chapter 18: The Pomegranate Tree Chapter 19: Back into Temple Chapter 20: ‘Your Father Awaits You’ Chapter 21: Line of Kings Chapter 22: The Death of Joseph Chapter 23: John the Baptist Chapter 24: The Temptation Chapter 25: Water into Wine Chapter 26: Gathering the Disciples Chapter 27: The Magdalene Chapter 28: The Healing at the Pool Chapter 29: Feeding the Five Thousand Chapter 30: Unity of Thought in Action the Teaching of Nicodemus Chapter 31: Woman Caught in Adultery Chapter 32: Healing the Blind Man Chapter 33: Transfiguration Chapter 34: The Raising of Lazarus Chapter 35: The Passover Chapter 36: The Last Supper Chapter 37: The Arrest Chapter 38: ‘I Do Not Know This Man.’ Chapter 39: On the Cross Chapter 40: From the Tomb Chapter 41: After the Tomb The Queen’s House Chapter 42: The Appearances Chapter 43: Another Chapter
About the Author
A.H. Aleksanian is a writer, visual artist and teacher. She has previously published articles and contributed to books in the field of autism. She divides her time between the Blue Mountains near Sydney, where she strives to inspire as an educator, and Southern Tasmania, where by the grace of God’s green paradise her self is inspired.
Dedication
To my mother:
your gentleness, grace, generosity and love are the touch-paper to my inspiration, to my life.
To my father:
by your courage, you taught me the importance of honour. By your protectiveness, you taught me the importance of family.
Because of you both, I am utterly blessed.
To my God:
Beloved,
every whisper,
breath,
movement
is for You.
Copyright Information ©
Copyright © A.H. Aleksanian (2020)
The right of A.H. Aleksanian to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781398400436 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781398400443 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2020)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Acknowledgement
To Heather and Edward Michael, you circle every word and are woven through, and around, every line.
To Barbara Thiering whose ground-breaking research lit a fire within me. For twenty-five years, its grip was relentless. Without her passion and courage, this book would not be possible.
To my publisher, Austin Macauley, for believing in me and supporting the spirit of this book. Thank you for allowing me to share this story.
Chapter 1

The Law
It was the law. He could not lie with her until their marriage ceremony. They may be betrothed, but they were not yet married.
The law was absolute on this: betrothal, a trial marriage, and only thereafter the conception of a child. Only on confirmation of pregnancy would a second, permanent marriage take place. It was always this way. There were no exceptions. All purpose and intention was to the manner of lineage – the line of David must continue.
But the betrothal period had been too long. Three years, and Joseph longed for her.
As an Essene he should have disdained marriage; cast it, along with sex, as unholy. The community teachings held all to perfect holiness. If, by some other chance, Joseph had been born not of this line, he would have remained for life within the monastery and entirely celibate. But he was The Seed of David and as such, he had been betrothed and allowed to leave the cloister for a time to marry and produce an heir.
And his betrothed: Mary.
Her skin was as the moon. Luminous. She shone from within and it reminded him of the crystalline dew he’d seen on the steps of Anatolia many years before. That too had been a gift, unassuming of itself, arriving by the morning’s innocence.
Mary: her delicacy, lightness of limb, her grace. The purity of her – she enchanted him.
Joseph would watch as she sat by the holy well: birds, in full song, alighting intimately close to her; their fragility, a dance atop the stone for a time, then without hesitation or fear, their unexpected hop to her hand. Concealing some seed within, she would tease them, her voice gentle, cooing, and with their sweet chirrup allow them grain.
Within her purity, Joseph noticed, there was a languidness; a slowed movement to all of her that fascinated him. It was as though she kept time just behind the beat of him, and he needed somehow to slow down – although he wildly didn’t know how – to take all of her in.
But there was a penetrating rhythm too about her: a strumming of movement. From the way she tamed strands of hair behind her ear – and it followed that its length cascaded fluidly across her shoulders – to the timbre of her laugh and, as she walked, her sandaled foot upon the hard-packed earth. Perhaps it was a rhythm born entirely of his proximity to her, but it ignited him.
In her: both fire and crystalline ice.
In him: wild horses straining against their harness.
He could not think of her this way. He must not. It was the law.
But oh, how he could drink the river of her.
Chapter 2

The Cistern
It was close to 11am. The light was sharp and echoed reflection across the plateau. A singular, certain visual clarity was found only in the vast bulk of red – land, rock, dust – butting hard up against the blue sky.
Raising a hand, Joseph covered his eyes and, for a moment, closed them tight. Salty tears trickled. Sometimes God’s light into this world was too bright. Even within the darkness of his mind, the land laid before him emphasised its vastness, while a corresponding lurch within him amplified his own insignificance. The dry air, the barren plateau, waves of heat shimmering off the land and yet he, amongst all of this, was drowning.
He wanted not to think of the crime he had committed, the sacred law he had broken. But in reality, his soul instinct wanted to think of nothing else. The scent of her. The taste of her. A sweetness on his tongue. She was all still within him.
Coming to the cistern Joseph disrobed, leaving his work clothes on the circular stonewall. As a gusting desert wind lifted ribbons of dust into the air, he descended deep steps leading down to the water. With each lowering tread the air cooled, but also the quality of his senses changed. Sounds of the plateau were muffled down here. The scent of damp rock and sweet water alternated. The air was moist on the in-breath.
These cisterns were designed not only to wash away the community’s workaday sweat, but to cleanse and purify the body and mind before the sacred midday meal. Waters designed to force self-reflection: to meet and make peace with one’s own shadow, before breaking bread in the sight of God.
As Joseph descended, the memory of being with her flared in him. Her skin’s heat, her scent, the expression of her lips and hands became more pronounced, more consuming, until he himself felt of fire.
In the darkness of the cistern, all he could see was her and him, and their being together as one.
Despite his guilt there was nothing in this dusty, violent world that could touch the utter beauty of that night he lay with her. He held tight to the memory of her even as the cool water tried to wrestle the image from him. He held onto the taste of her, while veins of cold ran up his body and he slipped under the water. He would not let go of the visioning sense of her. Still submerged, Joseph fanned the water with his hands, and it occurred to him, at this moment, he was neither a part of earth nor sky. He was apart.
He looked up through silvered water, to the cistern lip, up to the circle of light above.
It came then, in a rush.
As if in sheer descent from above, it had gathered speed, entered him and subsumed him suddenly and wholly as one complete thought.
A bolt rocked his body; he felt the hard physical blow. Did it knock him sideways even while suspended in the water? In that panicked instant he surfaced, scrambled to his feet to see a great wave – an immense weight of water – heave high, climbing to climax, for just a moment suspended up, up, upon the pinnacle of the cistern wall. He breathed hard then dived under the water that lay pooled, just in time to avoid the wave’s complete collapse upon him.
Emerged and gasping, then dazed and dripping, Joseph stood stunned; the water now subsumed chest height and he, entirely awake.
Joseph watched the water within the cistern find its balance. He slowed his breath. He realised he was clear. Singular, and utterly aware.
And he understood.
Despite his guilt, despite breaking the law and the inevitable coming condemnation, Joseph knew – knew – there was something so precious and utterly important here, of he and Mary being as one, on that night and to this very moment. Joseph knew he would hold and protect this essence with all the strength, passion and courage available to him. This was his l