Rosh Character Analysis

Up here, in the clean sunlight, Daniel bar Jamin, orphan, runaway slave, had found something to live for.

“All the mighty ones,” he said, remembering Rosh’s very words. “Joshua, Gideon, David, all of them fought on the soil of Galilee. No one could stand against them. It will be so again.”

“Yes,” breathed Joel. “It will be so again. God will send us another David.”

Everywhere, the Jews went about their business, paying no attention. The boy who had lived for five years in the solitude of the mountain, nursing his hatred and keeping it ever fresh, could not credit his own eyes. How could these city people endure to be reminded on every hand of their own helplessness? More shameful still, he saw merchants joking with the soldiers. He could not understand. Where was their pride? Had they forgotten altogether? If Rosh were here he would open their eyes. Why did that Jesus do nothing?

“Did you ever think that Rosh—that he might be the leader we are waiting for?” […]

“I know he is,” said Daniel.

They sat silent, trembling at the immensity of the secret they shared.

“He’s like a lion!” Daniel said, his confidence mounting. “He has no fear at all. Up there in the cave, whatever he says, the men obey him without question. If there were more of us—if we could only get enough—Rosh would drive every cursed Roman back into the sea!”

For Daniel nothing could ever be the same. He had never admitted to himself that he was lonely here on the mountain. He had worshiped and feared Rosh. He had fought and eaten and slept side by side with the hard-eyed men who made up Rosh’s band. But the few days in Joel’s passageway had shown him a new world. He had found someone to talk to, someone who had shared his own thoughts, and who had instantly taken Daniel’s burden as his own.

Somewhere, Daniel had been taught in his childhood, there would be an answer in the scriptures, for Moses had handed down in the Law an answer for every situation a man could encounter in this life. […]

Suddenly words were echoing in his mind. “For each one of you is precious in His sight.” Not scripture, but the words of the carpenter. That was what had confused him. Rosh looked at a man and saw a thing to be used, like a tool or a weapon. Jesus looked and saw a child of God. Even the old miser with his moneybag?

[Daniel] was almost at the point of tears. Yet in the same instant such a fierce resentment sprang up in him that he dared not look his friend in the face. […] Everyone—the doctor, Leah, the neighbors, and now Simon, took it for granted that he had come home to stay. […] What about his life on the mountain? What about Rosh and Samson, and the work that must be done in the cave? Wasn’t that more important than a few farmers who wanted their wheels mended? Everything he loved […] the irresponsible life, the excitement of the raids, rose up and fought off the shackles that Simon held out to him in kindness.

He lay filled with meat and wine, his old comrades stretched out beside him. It was all just as he had imagined it on those endless steaming nights in the town. Yet sleep did not come. He turned over, twisting his shoulders to fit a hump in the rocky ground. In these few weeks his body had forgotten the feel of pebbles. In the same way, his mind shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a resting place […].

All at once he thought of Leah’s little black goat. Would some child in the village be hungry because of tonight's feast?

Dismayed, Daniel climbed the mountain to take the warning to Rosh, only to have Rosh laugh in his face.

“They are afraid of their own shadows,” Rosh jeered. “What good are they but to raise food for men who will fight?”

“They are desperate,” Daniel urged. “You know they cannot carry arms themselves. They are going to appeal to the centurion for protection. They want him to send legionaries.”

“Let them come!” Rosh boasted. “Let them get a taste of the mountain. They will only break their teeth on it.”

Daniel’s control gave way. “You’d just use him and then let him go? Without even a try—?”

Rosh squinted up at him. “I’ve warned you before,” he said, his voice ugly. “There's a soft streak in you. Till you get rid of it you’re no good to the cause.”

The red mist of anger cleared suddenly from Daniel’s mind. He looked at the man who had been his leader. He saw the coarsened face with its tangle of dirty beard. He saw the hard mouth, the calculating little eyes. He saw a man he had never really looked at before.

Up here, in the clean sunlight, Daniel bar Jamin, orphan, runaway slave, had found something to live for.

“All the mighty ones,” he said, remembering Rosh’s very words. “Joshua, Gideon, David, all of them fought on the soil of Galilee. No one could stand against them. It will be so again.”

“Yes,” breathed Joel. “It will be so again. God will send us another David.”

Everywhere, the Jews went about their business, paying no attention. The boy who had lived for five years in the solitude of the mountain, nursing his hatred and keeping it ever fresh, could not credit his own eyes. How could these city people endure to be reminded on every hand of their own helplessness? More shameful still, he saw merchants joking with the soldiers. He could not understand. Where was their pride? Had they forgotten altogether? If Rosh were here he would open their eyes. Why did that Jesus do nothing?

“Did you ever think that Rosh—that he might be the leader we are waiting for?” […]

“I know he is,” said Daniel.

They sat silent, trembling at the immensity of the secret they shared.

“He’s like a lion!” Daniel said, his confidence mounting. “He has no fear at all. Up there in the cave, whatever he says, the men obey him without question. If there were more of us—if we could only get enough—Rosh would drive every cursed Roman back into the sea!”

For Daniel nothing could ever be the same. He had never admitted to himself that he was lonely here on the mountain. He had worshiped and feared Rosh. He had fought and eaten and slept side by side with the hard-eyed men who made up Rosh’s band. But the few days in Joel’s passageway had shown him a new world. He had found someone to talk to, someone who had shared his own thoughts, and who had instantly taken Daniel’s burden as his own.

Somewhere, Daniel had been taught in his childhood, there would be an answer in the scriptures, for Moses had handed down in the Law an answer for every situation a man could encounter in this life. […]

Suddenly words were echoing in his mind. “For each one of you is precious in His sight.” Not scripture, but the words of the carpenter. That was what had confused him. Rosh looked at a man and saw a thing to be used, like a tool or a weapon. Jesus looked and saw a child of God. Even the old miser with his moneybag?

[Daniel] was almost at the point of tears. Yet in the same instant such a fierce resentment sprang up in him that he dared not look his friend in the face. […] Everyone—the doctor, Leah, the neighbors, and now Simon, took it for granted that he had come home to stay. […] What about his life on the mountain? What about Rosh and Samson, and the work that must be done in the cave? Wasn’t that more important than a few farmers who wanted their wheels mended? Everything he loved […] the irresponsible life, the excitement of the raids, rose up and fought off the shackles that Simon held out to him in kindness.

He lay filled with meat and wine, his old comrades stretched out beside him. It was all just as he had imagined it on those endless steaming nights in the town. Yet sleep did not come. He turned over, twisting his shoulders to fit a hump in the rocky ground. In these few weeks his body had forgotten the feel of pebbles. In the same way, his mind shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a resting place […].

All at once he thought of Leah’s little black goat. Would some child in the village be hungry because of tonight's feast?

Dismayed, Daniel climbed the mountain to take the warning to Rosh, only to have Rosh laugh in his face.

“They are afraid of their own shadows,” Rosh jeered. “What good are they but to raise food for men who will fight?”

“They are desperate,” Daniel urged. “You know they cannot carry arms themselves. They are going to appeal to the centurion for protection. They want him to send legionaries.”

“Let them come!” Rosh boasted. “Let them get a taste of the mountain. They will only break their teeth on it.”

Daniel’s control gave way. “You’d just use him and then let him go? Without even a try—?”

Rosh squinted up at him. “I’ve warned you before,” he said, his voice ugly. “There's a soft streak in you. Till you get rid of it you’re no good to the cause.”

The red mist of anger cleared suddenly from Daniel’s mind. He looked at the man who had been his leader. He saw the coarsened face with its tangle of dirty beard. He saw the hard mouth, the calculating little eyes. He saw a man he had never really looked at before.