I
Johanan the High Priest was eighty years of age. Sound in spirit and
strong in body had he attained to that ripe old age, at one with
himself and his God. For from his earliest childhood days he had been
taught to walk upon the Lord’s ways, nor did he forsake them. He
guarded himself against all transgression, and he built around him
one wall within another. To the old commandments he added new, and
was strict with himself in fulfilling them. His words were: “The body
is nothing, the soul is all. The body is dust and clay, the soul is
eternity. Live not for your bodies, live for your soul alone. Heed
not what time brings forth; turn all your thoughts and your efforts
to the everlasting.”
And as he preached, so did he live. Word and deed were to him the
same. And although he was High Priest,—the leader of his people and
the wealthiest and mightiest of his brethren,—his body knew nothing
of the pleasures of this world.
The inhabitants of Jerusalem, however, revered him greatly for his
steadfast consistency. Although it was very difficult to follow in
his footsteps, and very few did so, his entire people could not
cease to marvel at him, and their admiration rose to reverence and
veneration.
And because he was so beloved and respected, his eightieth birthday
became a holiday for all the city. Every house was beautifully
bedecked, and all the inhabitants dressed in festive array; from
every corner of the land men and women in holiday mood made
pilgrimages to him, riding thither or coming on foot. And there came
to him from afar and near his friends and admirers, with music and
song, asking him to walk with them through the streets of Jerusalem.
Let him see how the whole people rejoiced in his longevity; let
him feel how beloved he was. The road was laid with carpets, and
little children ran ahead strewing his path with flowers and crying,
“Life everlasting to our master the High Priest!” All the streets
were packed with festive crowds, men and women; all the roofs were
thronged with denizens of Jerusalem; every window was besieged, and
the city resounded with the cry, “Life everlasting to our master the
High Priest!” And the fair daughters of Zion, with graceful gestures
and virtuous blushes, showered him with flowers and wreaths.
And as he passed thus through the streets of Jerusalem, amid the
jubilation of the people, he heard behind him the voice of a woman,
saying, “How handsome is the old man, and how strong he still is!
A girl could fall in love with him!” And because his heart was
filled with pleasure and forbearance, he turned his face toward
the gossiping woman, with a fatherly smile upon his face. It was a
young maiden, as beautiful as a picture, of medium build and buxom
presence, and she received his glance with eyes out of which beamed
the sun. It was as if she had been waiting for him to look upon
her, reserving for him her most penetrating glance. He was abashed
at her look, and the genial, fatherly smile upon his lips faded
into embarrassment, not knowing what to do with itself and at last
lengthening to a grimace.
And as he turned his head away from her he heard the voice of a man,
saying, “What has he had, pray, of all his long life, his beauty and
his strength?” The voice came from the vicinity of the beautiful
woman, and in it echoed a certain insolence, as if the speaker had
meant to strike him and hurt him with the words. And yet there was
deep pity in the voice. And it seemed to the aged High Priest as if
an arrow had grazed his breast. He rose to his full height, the smile
vanished entirely from his lips, his forehead became wrinkled and his
countenance grew dark.
His assistant, the vice High Priest, who walked beside him, noticed
the change that had come over the sage’s face, and whispered to him,
angrily, “That is Jason, the son of Meshulem, and the woman at his
side is his sweetheart, Athaliah.”
Johanan, however, affected not to hear what his subordinate whispered
to him. He raised his head proudly and walked with firmer tread than
before. His entire exterior bore the answer to Jason’s words. His
countenance grew stern and the look in his eyes sharp. Every moment
spoke of his strength and of the consciousness that he had nothing to
regret in his life. Jason understood this mute reply and smiled back
ironically yet sadly, but all the people looked with great veneration
upon the proud, giant-strong figure of the High Priest. They made way
for him with trembling in their hearts; piety and reverence echoed in
their incessant cries of “Life everlasting to our master, the High
Priest!”
His proud bearing did not forsake him during all the time that he
walked through the streets, nor even later, as he sat with his
intimate friends at the banquet given in his honour.