Thirty-Three

After Judas had left, Jesus continued speaking to them throughout the dinner, but Nathanael was so sick with fear that Judas had gone to carry out the betrayal that he heard practically nothing.

"I am with you only for a short time." he said. "You will look for me and I now tell you what I told the Judeans: you cannot come where I am going." And then something about a new commandment, which filled Nathanael with dread: "Love each other as I have loved you." Be crucified for each other. He could not! He could not!

There followed a kind of farce, with the Rock saying that he was willing to go and die with Jesus, and Jesus telling him something about repudiating him three times that very night--and then Thomas chimed in with some difficulty or other, and Philip compounded the idiocy by telling Jesus to show us the Father, which stung Jesus into saying that anyone who was looking at him was seeing the Father. He as much as said, "You fool, Philip, do you not see that I am what the Father looks like?"

But he recovered his equanimity; Philip would always be Philip, and went on to something that Nathanael completely missed.

Nathanael only became conscious of what he was saying when, in the middle of the meal, he took a piece of the unleavened bread and held it up, saying, "Take this and eat it. This is my body, which will be given up for you." He broke the bread into pieces and gave one to each.

Nathanael took it in his hand. So this was "the meat of my body" which we were to eat, to have life--his life--in us. But it was simply bread.

Or was it?

It could not be. Jesus had been so insistent that the meat of his body was real food--and his blood was real drink? Where was that?--that there had to be more to it than some kind of symbolic gesture. And he had told Nathanael that he could do what had to be done because he would be in him somehow, and that he would understand about the meat of his body.

Had he transformed the bread into his body? His real body? The one he was looking at? The bread and the man were one and the same thing, just as he and the Father were one and the same thing? Just as he was what the Father looked like, this thing was what he looked like?

Incredible. Who could believe it?

But who could believe that he was "I AM"? "Who could believe what we have heard? To whom has the arm of YHWH been revealed?" he remembered from Isaiah. If he is "I AM," then why could this not be believed? And if he was not, everything that happened made no sense whatever.

He ate the thing that looked like bread, and believed, with a faith whose mustard seed had at least put out one leaf, that he was eating Jesus's body. It tasted like bread, just as it felt like bread. There was no chewing of an arm; it was perfectly normal-seeming. But it meant that now Jesus was living in him, and he was living in Jesus--and Jesus was saying something to that effect: "they will be one and the same thing in us: you in me (to the Father) and I in them"! Perhaps he could go through with what he had to go through! He felt no different, but the bread looked no different. If it was his body, then he was new, somehow.

And at the end of the dinner, the blood came, in the form of wine. "This is the New Treaty," he said, "in my blood, which will be shed for you and for many, many others, so that sins will be forgiven."

And this was the reason for it all. The sins could have been forgiven if he were accepted; but with his rejection, not only were the sins forgiven, but that we would be one and the same thing as he was, just as he was one and the same as the Father. He said it in so many words! And if he is "I AM" then there is a sense that Nathanael now is "I AM," but "I AM" somehow as the bread and the wine were Jesus, but still looked and acted like bread and wine.

Nathanael looked at Thomas as he drank from the cup. Jesus had given him permission, and so there was no danger, Nathanael hoped--no, believed. He believed. He hoped he believed! He wondered if Thomas realized what he was doing, and how he was being transformed as the wine was transformed.

Think of it! Being transformed into Jesus! Only apparently still living one's old life! Or perhaps living one's own life too, just as Jesus lived his human life as well as the Father's life. There was a distinction of some sort, even though the "two" were one and the same thing.

Who could understand it? But then, who had to "understand" it. It was a question of acceptance, not "understanding."

"Come now," said Jesus. "Let us leave the table and go out." Nathanael walked after him, in a daze of bewilderment. "What I really am," said Jesus, "is a vine, and you are the branches." He was a kind of part of Jesus!

"Stay in me, and let me stay in you. You cannot bear fruit unless you stay in me, any more than a branch can bear fruit unless it stays on the vine." God grant that he would have the courage not to tear himself off! And as he felt the "wine" in his stomach, he almost thought he could go through what had to be gone through.

"You did not choose me," Jesus was saying, "I chose you, and I have put you here for you to go on and to bear fruit, and for your fruit to last, and for me to give you whatever you ask the Father in my name." Dear Father, in the name of Jesus, let him not be crucified--or if he must be crucified, let us somehow bear it! Please, Father! Let me not be a traitor, not now!

They entered the garden of Gethsemani, and Jesus let them find places to rest, except for the Rock, John, and James, those he specially loved, who had been his companions at the restoration to life of Jairus's daughter, and on the mountain where something awe-inspiring had happened. No one could get them to speak of it. The four of them went a little way apart, and Jesus himself began to wail softly, pleading with his Father to let "this cup" pass him by if possible.

So there was still a possibility. But Nathanael heard faintly, "But your will be done, not mine." And the sound of his voice! Jesus himself, full of terror! Nathanael thanked God he could not see his face!

He was sure he could not sleep. How could anyone? And yet, he woke as Jesus came to his three companions, and told them to stay awake with him. Jesus needing comfort! How was it possible!

And he woke again. How could he have slept? How could he continue to breathe? And again he slept, and again Jesus's coming back to the three for comfort woke him. He looked for consolation, but found none. He was alone.

Each of them was alone.

Finally Jesus, his face bloody for some reason, came to them and told them in a calm voice to rest--and then lifted up his head, and said, "Rise, let us go forward. The traitor is here."

And through the gate came Judas with a contingent from the High Priest and some Roman soldiers, armed with torches, lanterns, clubs, and other weapons.

Judas then came up and kissed Jesus. Kissed him! Kissed him! Jesus made a reply in a low voice, and then stepped forward and said, "Who is it you are looking for?"

"Jesus of Nazareth," answered the soldier in charge.

"That is the one I AM," said Jesus, and the words "I AM" rang through the garden like the tolling of a huge bell, almost deafening everyone. The soldiers, along with Judas, stepped back, and fell prostrate in terror.

After a short while of dead silence, Jesus said again, "Who is it you are looking for?"

The attackers got to their feet, and the commander answered in a small, shaking voice, "Jesus of, ah, Nazareth."

"I told you that was the one I was," said Jesus. "And if I am the one you are looking for, then let these people go."

Then the Rock, who had for some unaccountable reason a sword, drew it and slashed at the head of one of the High Priest's slaves; but the slave dodged, and all he accomplished was to cut off his ear.

"Put your sword back in its sheath!" snapped Jesus, and the Rock, trembling, complied. "Am I not to drink the cup the Father has given me?"

"Allow me to do this much," he told the commander, and picked up the man's ear and reattached it. Everyone was dumbfounded, and simply stood there, while Jesus said again, "If I am the one you want, then let these people go," and waved for his students to escape, and they all ran off, Nathanael among them. They had to go through the gate, which meant going through the contingent of soldiers and guards, but they received no resistance.

As soon as Nathanael saw that no one was chasing him, he stopped running, and began walking around the Mount of Olives in a daze. It was easy to see, because the moon was full, but Nathanael had no idea where he was going. Evidently he was not going to be crucified with Jesus--thank God!--if he kept himself away from things, and at first he began climbing the mountain to get as far away as possible.

But then he realized he had to know. And how could they recognize him as a follower of Jesus? He could melt into the huge crowd that was in Jerusalem for the Passover--which began on the evening of the next day for most, he suddenly remembered--and learn whether Jesus would indeed be crucified or whether he could persuade the people somehow to make him their King. It seemed so hopeless, now that they had him, but he could perform miracles, after all.

But no. They would do something-or-other to make him look ridiculous or to humiliate him somehow, and if they did, the people would turn instantly against him. There was nothing a Judean hated and despised more than someone who had been disgraced. They would find a way, and unless Jesus fought it--and he was not going to fight it; he had shown that he could conquer them with the simple words, "I AM," and after he had them completely cowed, he let them take him.

But perhaps he was waiting to cow the Judean authorities, or even Pontius Pilate. Perhaps when he was brought before the public, he would force them to worship him as he had forced the soldiers.

But he said that he was leaving them, and going where they could not come--at least now. Later, apparently. Whatever that might mean. It did not bear thinking of--and so of course, Nathanael could think of nothing else.

In any case, he found himself wandering back across the Kidron brook and climbing back up into Jerusalem, when the outline of the Mount of Olives began to show against the sky, which was now barely less dark than the earth, now that the moon had set and the dawn was only barely beginning.

Where would they have taken him? Not to the Antonia fortress. Though there were some Roman soldiers there, the main group were Judean police. To the High Priest's palace nearby. His steps echoed in the deserted street, speaking to him, telling him, "Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone."

There was the palace. Now what? He could not enter. Nor dared he enter. He walked back and forth along the wall, "Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone."

He stopped so that his steps would stop talking to him. But the silence was even worse, and so he walked on, trying to force his sandals to make as little noise as possible. And still they said, "Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone."

He turned a corner, and thought he heard a voice--and a voice he recognized. "I was wondering where you were!"

It was Ezra's voice. It was still too dark to see him, but the day was racing onward. But Nathanael could vaguely see Thomas--and then the shadow which must be Ezra. Ezra and his very good friend Thomas. "I have a friend, Bartholomew!" he had said. But no man was a friend to his slave. Even if he had called him a friend a couple of times. No. The sandals were right: alone, alone, alone, alone. He listened.

"He is dead," said Ezra. "I thought you should know."

"What?" said Thomas after a stunned pause. "Have they crucified him already?"

"No, not Jesus. Judas." Judas!

"Dead?"

"Hanged."

"Who did it? David? Not you!"

"No, not I. David would have done, had Matthew not forbidden him to kill Judas. But he was there--we were not together, he found his way to Judas's house on his own, and I was following Judas; he left the soldiers as soon as he was able. Fortunately, no one can see me at night, and so I had no trouble keeping fairly close."

"What happened?"

"Oh, as soon as he realized that Jesus was not going to disappear after that "I AM" in the garden, and would actually let himself be captured, he was sorry. Of course. He apparently had some idea that he would be forcing Jesus's hand, and found out that no one forces his hand. At any rate, he ran back to the Temple and said that he had sinned in betraying innocent blood, and when they told him that that was his problem, not theirs, he took the money and flung it into the Temple treasury, and ran off.

"It was difficult to keep up with him, but I suspected where he was going--to his mansion--and sure enough, he went there. I was going to go in, when David came up, and--coward that I was--I stepped back into the shadows to let David take care of him. He loathed him. So did I, for that matter.

"David was about to enter, when Judas came out with a rope. Then David also hid himself, and we separately watched Judas loop the rope over a branch of the terebinth tree in his garden, step on a box, put a noose around his neck, and kick the box away.

"He was not skilled as a hangman, and instead of its breaking his neck, it simply choked him. Slowly. I saw David watching, at first with relish, and then with horror. You remember that David had also hanged himself, and must have realized what Judas was going through. Personally, I thought it mild in comparison with crucifixion, which is what the Master is going to undergo--because of him!--but David seemed to hate himself for hating him.

"Oh, I know, we must not hate, and all that, but I hope the Master will forgive a little bit of hatred, and my joy at seeing him suffering as he strangled slowly to death. It was far, far too good for him!"

Dear God! thought Nathanael. He did not know whether to rejoice or cringe in horror. He had repented, and then destroyed himself. Or perhaps he had repented of destroying himself also as he was choking to death. Or--dear God!

Thomas made no reply to Ezra, and Nathanael supposed he was thinking something like what he himself thought. He somehow could not find it in him to be glad that he had suffered, but at the same time, he found no sympathy for him, only horror.

"At any rate," said Ezra finally, "he is dead, and the Master is about to die. They have taken him to the Praetorium, and the Governor is now interviewing him. I have no hope. Let us go see if anything is happening."

"Ezra, I cannot watch this! I cannot!"

"At least, we can see if he is condemned or not."

"We know he will be. He said himself that he would be."

"But he said it was possible. Even last night. Did you not hear him?"

"I heard nothing that made any sense. I was too distracted by worry."

"Come."

And, because he could not stay away, Thomas followed. And because he could not stay away, Nathanael followed also. Again there was a ridiculous parade, though this was more like a funeral procession.

And there was the Governor, on the balcony, with two soldiers, one of whom looked as if he had just come from a battle, with something on his--it was Jesus! They had dressed him in a soldier's cloak and put a crown of some sort--it looked like thorns--on his head, and a stick for a scepter in his hand! His face was full of blood, and he was beaten and bruised all over.

"There is your man," said Pilate. "Look at him."

The crowd in the "Pavement" was stunned. Then someone shouted, "Take him away! Take him away! Crucify him!" Someone else took up the chant, and the crowd, seeing him totally disgraced, turned against him, and the cry became a roar.

They had managed it. They made him look ridiculous, by dressing him as a king in a farce, with a face full of blood and bruises, shaking and barely standing up. There was nothing commanding, nothing appealing, almost nothing human about him.

The Governor held up his hand for silence, and said, "You want me to crucify your King?" and one of the priests shouted back, "We have no King but Caesar!"

Pilate heard this, and a smile slowly spread over his face. He then had a basin brought, and ostentatiously washed his hands in front of them, saying, "I am innocent of this man's blood. It is your responsibility." And the crowd roared louder than ever.

"I knew it!" said Thomas. "I knew it! Let us go!"

"We cannot go," said Ezra. "You know that. You would come back if you tried."

"I cannot bear it!"

"No one can." That was certainly true, thought Nathanael. He had to turn his face away; he could not look on Jesus up there. They took him inside.

And after a short time, Jesus and two others emerged, dragging the cross-beams of their crosses on their shoulders, escorted by three soldiers, with Matthew's former guard as their commander. He looked extremely distressed. It was very difficult to see, because the crowd kept pressing in, and the streets were so very narrow. Jesus, almost dead already from the beating, disappeared from view. He had fallen down under the weight of the wood. That strong man, for whom wood was a friend and servant for so many years, was felled by it! And would be hanged on it, in the worst way imaginable!

Ezra tried to get them closer through the crowd, but Thomas hung back. They still had not noticed Nathanael, who kept behind them. He found them some comfort, but could not bear to have to speak to anyone.

Jesus stopped for a moment by some women, and said something to them, and was prodded onward. He fell again, and now the centurion looked around, clapped his hand on a powerfully formed young man nearby, who, complaining and objecting, took the cross-beam from Jesus and walked behind him. Nathanael was grateful that he was not close enough to have been chosen, much as he would like to have helped Jesus to carry the cross.

Jesus could not carry his own cross!

Then how could he expect them to do so? Dear Jesus, forgive me when this is all over!

And then even without the cross, Jesus fell, and the soldiers seemed to wonder whether they would be able to get him to the Skull Hill, or whether he would die first. There was considerable climbing to do, and Jesus could not seem to get

his footing.

But the journey was not long; it was practically inside the city, well within sight of anyone who cared to look, when they stopped and took off Jesus's clothes, and the centurion, having assigned the crucifixion of the other criminals to two other soldiers, himself nailed Jesus to the cross. At one point, Jesus said something, and the centurion stopped, the mallet raised to strike, winced, and then brought it down, as silent tears fell from his eyes.

And then they raised the cross, and Nathanael tried to turn his head away, and could not. He could not look, and yet he could not tear his eyes away. It was beyond horrible! He saw Thomas go to the edge of the crowd, with his back toward Jesus, and wished he was not rooted to the spot. The two other criminals on either side were screaming in agony, and Jesus was making grunting noises, trying futilely to relieve the torture of his hands by putting his weight on his bloody feet, and then, unable to endure that, hanging by his hands again, and then once again arching his back and banging his thorn-crowned head against the upright of the cross, and silently screaming in agony. And repeating the whole process over and over.

It began to grow dark.

But it was not a cloud over the sun; the sun itself was losing its light. But not as it did during an eclipse, with a shadow, which they said was the moon, coming over it; it was just dimming. And dimming fast.

Was the world going to end? Its Creator was dying; was the creation to follow him? But no. He said he would return.

Did he not? But how dark it was!

He saw the centurion go over to Matthew and talk with him, and then go back. Did the centurion have some inkling of what he had done?

Nathanael came up to Matthew. "They had a masterful plan," he said with bitter irony. "Have him publicly disgraced by the Romans, of all people, and then have them degrade him thus!"

"I suspect it was not a plan at all," said Matthew, "but something they blundered into."

"Whether or not, it was perfect. Can you imagine anyone listening to our preaching about him after this? I can hear them say, 'Is he not the one I saw on the cross, defiling himself with his own excrement?' Who would believe that he was a great man, let alone the Son of God? Or the 'King of Judea,' as the sign says?"

Matthew mused, quoting, "'Who would believe what we had heard? He was spurned and avoided by men, one of those from whom men hide their faces.' It was there in the prophesy; I read it just recently! So there must be a meaning to this! And the same prophesy says something about his bearing our suffering while we thought of him as stricken, and his being pierced--it actually said that, I remember reading it!--for our sins! There must be a point to all of this. There has to be!"

Nathanael looked over at him, and finally spoke. "Thank you, Matthew. I had given up all hope."

Jesus saw John and his mother standing in front of him, and said something to them, and then said something else, at which the centurion ran to the bucket of wine the soldiers used to relieve their thirst, soaked a sponge in it, and held it up to Jesus's mouth.

It was now as dark as midnight, Jesus drank the wine, and suddenly, for the first time, screamed, and his cry was echoed by a roar from the earth, which quaked under them. Everyone else screamed and fell to the ground.

And then the sky lighted up again, and the earthquake was over. And Jesus's body hung there lifeless.

It was all meaningless. The savior of the world was dead, and the world was as it had been before he lived.