Sunburnt Speculations

An exercise in interpreting scriptures through filling in gaps in stories. I have taken, for my subject, Joseph Barsabas who is also called Justus – the one passed over in Acts 1:21-26.

This is the testimony of Joseph son of Saba, written in captivity at Betaris in the reign of Emperor Galba, in hope of martyrdom for our Blessed Lord — that peace and blessing may be upon you.

I am called, Joseph the Just. If it is a name that becomes me, it is one into which I have grown for I have not always acted justly. Nor have I always felt that I have been dealt with justly. Though now I think differently.

Is it not, oft times, the experience of injustice keenly felt, that places one on the path which leads to righteousness? And is it not justice, falling down like waters, that feeds the ever-flowing stream of righteousness? It is righteousness for which my heart now longs. But I must tell you what placed me on that path.

As you may know, I had been a follower of the Master from the beginning – one of the Seventy sent to bring in the Harvest. After the Master was crucified, I was one of those assembled in Jerusalem, awaiting the Promise.

Peter stood up in those days and urged us to select one to replace the Betrayer, who had been one of us and one of the Twelve closest. My name was put forward. I know not by whom. I did not put it forward myself. To have done so would have been vanity. Yet two of the fellowship vouched for me. And I spoke before the brethren. Yet it was Matthias they chose — by lot — and I was passed over.

It was, for a time, as though the Light had been withdrawn from me. I knew not why. My companions, those with whom I had laboured in the cause — withdrew from me. Perhaps it was from embarrassment or pity for my sake. Yet they would not regard me and we spoke little. I know of no transgression which I committed.

So discarded by the Fellowship, I began to keep to myself and slipped from their circle. Into despair I fell, blaming the caprice of God and the arbitrary ways of men.

Occasionally I would hear news — of beatings, stonings, and imprisonments — and I would not weep. Justice, as I had imagined it in my heart, had found them.

Other news I heard also — of the breaking of prison doors and the bursting of chains, of shipwrecks and escapes, and of things even yet more strange — of miraculous healings of prophesies and speaking in foreign tongues.

These things I noted and saw, in my darkness, that I had been poisoned by the bitterness of my own cup. For I had hoped to be a redeemer of Israel after the Master had left us. In that eager hope, I believed that my claim to the apostleship was just. But it was not so; for justice leads to righteousness, and it was justice that left the seed of my faith to ripen at such a time as this.

The day approaches, and I go towards it with gladness to claim the blessedness that awaits.

For General Vespasian’s troops have killed or carried off as slaves most of our little group of believers who gathered for worship here at Betaris. The rest of us have been rounded up for judgment. I hold no great honour among them and am now too old for a slave.