The Divining

     Ulrika did not know why she had stopped, or why the creature had caught her interest. He was an unremarkable dog, and the market square was crowded with animals—pens of geese and chickens for sale, crates of ducks and doves, roosts where exotic parrots and hawks sat tethered. Pigs and goats oinked and bleated in straw-packed pens, cats and dogs—for food and temple sacrifice—paced in small cages. There were even snakes dancing as charmers played their flutes, and scorpions hanging from the faces of mystics, to the amazement of onlookers.

     Yet Ulrika could not take her eyes off an ordinary dog.

     And then she realized that it was, of course, not a dog but a wolf.

     She had not experienced the wolf vision again since the night in the Judean wilderness when it had led her to a secret grave. She stared at it now in wonder and curiosity. And then something occurred to her. Keeping her eyes on the vision, she slowed her breathing, removed all thoughts from her mind except for the wolf, and focused on him with renewed intensity. "Lead me to where I must go," she whispered. "Show me the way."

     The handsome creature turned and loped away, through a crowd that was unaware of a spirit-wolf passing in their midst. It led Ulrika under a stone archway, and she found herself in a small square bordered on all sides by residences with wooden doorways and shuttered windows. In the center of the square, a small knot of people watched a man in their midst. Such sights were common in Babylon, as street entertainers were common—magicians, storytellers, even seers and necromancers.

     But the man in the midst of this quiet crowd was different from the usual street hawkers, who always wore colorful costumes to catch people's eye. This man's attire was subdued, modest. Ulrika recognized the long curls framing his face, the white, fringed shawl with blue stripes, and the leatherstraps around his arms and across his forehead as the trappings of a devout Jew. And the people gathered around him were unusually subdued. Instead of being rowdy and pushy, this gathering was small and quiet and consisted of, Ulrika saw, mostly women and slaves. A few men stood on the edge, arms folded, skeptical expressions on their faces.

     When she saw that many in the audience suffered from injuries and disease, it occurred to her that this man worked healing miracles. Babylon was full of such healers.

     She focused her attention on the Jewish wonder-worker, who stood with a woman and held up his hands as he softly chanted. To Ulrika's surprise, the woman was chanting as well. And then she realized: they were praying together.

     As everyone watched in silence, listening to the soft murmur of two voices, Ulrika studied those around her, saw the looks of hope and anticipation on their faces, and wondered what they expected to see happen here today. "Pardon me," she whispered to a woman standing next to her. "Who is that man?" Ulrika asked.

     "That is Rabbi Judah," the woman said. "He has come recently from Palmyra. They say he is a worker of wonders."

     Ulrika returned her attention to the two standing in the center of the silent crowd, and saw that the praying woman had begun to sob. Covering her face with her hands, she bent her head and wept. The Jewish wonder-worker laid a hand on her shoulder and said, "Do you understand now, sister?"

     The woman nodded, too overcome to speak.

     The small crowd began to shift and murmur. It was someone else's turn. Yet there was no pushing and shoving, no calling out or holding up coins. Ulrika wondered if they had been told ahead of time to be respectful of Judah, or if it was something they instinctively sensed.

     The woman left—trying to give Judah coins, which he refused—and now the small gathering grew tense as each hoped the Jewish wonder-worker would choose her or him next. To their disappointment, however, the middle-aged Jew cleared his throat and said in a sonorous voice, "Brothers and sisters, mercy unto you and peace, and charity fulfilled. Remember this: nothing is lost, nothing is hidden. Ask, and it will be given. Seek, and it willbe found. There is redemption in forgiveness, as a man should be remembered for his good deeds and not for his sins. But know this above all: there is no death, there is only eternal life as long you keep yourselves in the love of God. And draw comfort, too, in the knowledge that God has a divine plan, the final goal of which is the highest good for humankind. We have only to obey his sacred Law and we will be redeemed."

     The gathering broke up peacefully. Ulrika did not understand what had just taken place. There had been no dramatic demonstration of magic, no explosive powders, no transformation of water into wine, no spontaneous healing of blindness and paralysis, and certainly none of the attendant noise and cheering from the mob that one saw in other market squares with other wonder-workers.

     She wondered why her wolf vision had led her here.

     But in the next instant, the rabbi turned and looked right at her and Ulrika felt something fly across the small, sunlit square, brush against her eyes like invisible wings, and soar down through her body to the center of her soul. She gasped. She could not move.

     Judah came toward her. He walked with a limp. He smelled of bread and onions, and Ulrika saw close-up, in the prodigious gray beard that fa

     "Blessings, daughter," he said in Aramaic. "What is it you seek?"

     Ulrika looked at the others drifting away from the small square, and wondered why he had singled her out. "Are you a mystic, honorable father?" she asked.

     He smiled. "I am an unworthy servant of God, glory and majesty to Him."

     She looked in the direction the weeping woman had gone, under a stone archway flanked by two Ishtar-egg vendors who were, at that moment, snoozing in the sun.

     "That dear sister had lost something, and now she knows where to find it," Judah said, anticipating Ulrika's question. "But you seek something yourself, daughter. Can I help?"

     Ulrika sca

     He nodded. "Come, break bread with us."

     Ulrika had expected to be in the company of a small family, a private affair, but the house of Rabbi Judah was open to all. The courtyard was crowded with people of all ages and social status. And the gathering was lively and full of joy, with singing and testimonials and spiritual revelations. Judah asked for silence and he preached to the excited company, a message centering upon the End of Days and a new age approaching, which he called "the kingdom."

     The crowd burst into praise and singing while Judah moved among them, blessing them and thanking them for coming. When he reached Ulrika, he gave her a long, searching look and said, "Why do you wish to learn meditation?"

     "Honorable Rabbi," she said, "I have been visited by visions all my life. They are inexplicable, they come randomly and seem to have no purpose. I seek a way to command them, and to learn how to put them to good use."

     Judah said, "Many of our faithful are blessed with visions and spiritual phenomena. Some are even touched by the Spirit and then speak in tongues. Come, you will want to confer with Miriam."