58-Deserters-A

And We Thought We Knew You:
Soul Journey With the Real Jesus

Deserters
POWER IN THE BREAKING

Midnight
Wednesday, about April 13, AD 30 [1]
Garden of Gethsemane, Mount of Olives, Judea

�� Never will they leave Jesus.� Never can they.� Where he goes, they go.� Never again out of their sight.� Anyone wanting to get to Jesus will have to go through them first.� Never will they let Jesus die.

�� Horses snorting.� Soldiers marching.�� Police tramping.� Theologians parading.� Judas dominating.�

�� Down into the valley.� Across the waters.� Up the mountain.� Weapons ready.� The military.� The police.� The holy mob.

�� Lanterns and torches blatantly breaking into the moment with blinding mockery.� Searching for the prey.� The innocent prey.

Rushing now.� Rushing into the orchard and over to the clearing.�� Into the enemy camp.

�� Temple police delighted with a challenge they do not usually get.� Roman soldiers heady with the thought of spilling blood.� Theologians exhilarated with victory.� Judas intoxicated with power.

�� Chariot drivers with fire racing through their veins, over rocks, through underbrush, past bushes, around trees.� Men hungry for a showdown following.

�� Sleepers suddenly awakened.� Slumbering during their watch.� Their exhaustion dishonored.� Their dreams betrayed.� Now about to pay the awful price.

�� "Wake up! It's time!� My betrayal!� Stand up like men and face them!" [2]

�� "Huh?"

�� The lights!� The blinding lights!� The puny band of men trying to shade their startled eyes.� Turning around searching for what to do.� Fight?� Run?� Hide?� It's too late.� The enemy has weapons. [3]

�� "Come on men!" Simon shouts.� "Surround him!� Surround Jesus!� Shield him!"

�� Peter and Thomas head toward Simon.� The three stand boldly between Jesus and the assailants, arms outstretched like a dragnet.� James and John each cover the flanks.

�� But in a horrible flash they all know it is too late.� Far too late.

�� "Where's Jesus?" Matthew shouts.

�� Jesus is no longer with them.� He has stepped through the enemy's superficial defences.� He is walking toward the light.� The blinding light.� He is not afraid of the light.

�� "Halt!� Do not advance any further!� Raise your hands above your head!� You there in front.� Stop!� Do not advance any further! �Halt!� We are heavily armed!� You don't have a chance.� Halt!"

�� They think they are in charge.� They are not.� Jesus is.� He continues to walk.� Toward whom he knows to be the religious leaders of the country.

�� The Roman soldiers and Temple police form a line of defence on each side, weapons directed at the heart of their Savior and his companions.

�� "Who is it you want?" Jesus shouts.� He has spoken first.� That is bad.� Now the religious leaders will have to answer his question.

�� "Jesus of Nazareth, Galilee!" a gruff voice shouts back.

�� "I am he!"

�� That's him?� That's him?� What do we do?� He's raising his hands!� He's going to strike us dead!� Don't!� Don't Jesus!� We didn't mean it!� We were just fooling!� Don't!

�� The religious leaders kneel.� The Roman soldiers fall to the ground evasively, the Temple police secret police duck behind trees.

�� "Get back here, Judas!� Protect yourself!� Are you crazy?"

�� Judas stands where he was unmoved.� Will Jesus now show his power over them?� Will he now call down ten thousand angels?� Will he now take over everything? [4]

�� Their hearts beat faster.� They look up at the sky for the lightening.� The balls of fire.� Their doom....

�� Nothing.

�� Silence.

�� Stifled power.

�� He didn't do it!� We're still alive!� He CAN'T do it!� He's a fraud!� A fake!� A charlatan!

�� He's a fool.� A weak fool.

�� Maybe he is not really Jesus.� Maybe he is just a decoy.� Maybe Jesus is one of the other men.

�� "Which one of you is the leader?" a Roman captain calls out.

�� Still nothing.

�� Judas has figured this into his plans.� If Jesus does not take over, he will.� Judas is smiling.� He knows Jesus better than anyone.� Jesus has just helped him be a hero.� He can just hear the news around Jerusalem tomorrow.� "Judas was the lone challenger in a standoff with Jesus and survived," everyone will say.

�� "Who is it you want?"Jesus shouts again.

�� Slowly the theologians rise to their feet.� One of them shouts back ~ the highest ranking chief priest among them.

�� "Jesus of Nazareth!" he announces bravely.

� ��"I told you that I am he!"

�� Again the pause.� Again nothing happens to anyone.� Again everyone feels like a fool for fearing this lone charlatan and his weak yes-men.

�� By this time, believing the mob is bluffing, Jesus' apostles rush to his side to confuse them.� He turns and looks at his friends� He signals for them to stay back.� They do not.

�� "No!� We're going to defend you!" Thaddeus shouts.� "You've got to live!"

�� The words, they know, are hollow.� The words are only the hypocritical echo of careless sleep during their failed night watch.�

�� "If you are looking for me," Jesus shouts back at the voices behind the lights, "then let these men go!" [5]

�� A standoff of cowardice pauses.

�� Confusion continues.� So many behind the torch lights, it is hard to tell who is who on either side.

�� A man steps forward into the light.� Closer he comes.� He is now in full view of Jesus' friends ~ the eleven.

�� "Who...?"

�� "It can't be!"

�� "No!"

�� "Not you!"

�� "Judas?"

�� "What are you doing over there with them?"

�� "Judas!"

�� "Man!� Get over here with us!� Help us, Judas!"

�� Judas stops two paces from Jesus.� Two paces from his destiny.� From fame.� From infamy.� From the last turning point.

�� Judas and Jesus stand eye to eye.�

�� The crowd behind him takes courage and stands up, but still with weapons pointed at Jesus' body, and of those with him.�

�� He is brave, this Judas.�

�� Still Judas and Jesus stand looking at each other.� He did not want it to be this way.� He had wanted Jesus to make a stand on his own without his hand being forced.

�� "Long live the king!"� Judas stands at attention, slaps his heals together, and salutes his commander.

�� Jesus swallows hard.� "Dear friend, do what you came for."

�� Slowly Judas puts both hands on Jesus' shoulders, kisses him on both cheeks, then draws back into place.� Now Jesus will have to make his move.

�� "Judas," Jesus whispers.� "Are you betraying the Son of Mankind with a kiss?" [6]

�� Emboldened by the courageous example of Judas, the theologians step away from the guards.� One turns and shouts to the Temple police, "Arrest this man!"

�� They are rushing forward.� They are charging at Jesus.� Simultaneously soldiers are charging at Jesus' eleven cohorts.� They are training their spears on them.

�� The butt of a sword is ramming into Jesus' head.� He is staggering.� Another blow to the other side of his head.� Jesus is reeling the other way.� They're wrestling Jesus to the ground.� They're grabbing his arms and legs and pinning them down.

�� "Nnnnnooooo!"

�� "Dddddoooonnnn'tttt!"

�� "Ssssstttttoooopppp!"

�� Feeble, frightened protests bounce among the surrounding trees, then plunge to hell.� Satan catches them and burns them alive.

�� The Temple police are kicking him in the side.� They are forcing Jesus' arms behind his back and chaining them.� Another set of chains are shackling his ankles.�

�� They have disabled the Son of God.�

�� Disbelief among his apostles gives way to anger.�

�� Used to facing death in the name of freedom, Simon the Zealot defiantly calls out to the others.� "Are we going to take this?"� A club is shoved into his middle.

�� "There are too many!"� Another club is brandished across Philip's back.

�� "Do something!"�

�� Peter pulls out the sword he has kept at his side since their arrival in Jerusalem.� Before anyone knows it, he is charging at the Temple police.

�� Grab him!� Grab that man!� Several soldiers rush at Peter and wrestle him to the ground, grabbing his sword in the process, and wrenching it from him. [7]

�� "I'm wounded!"

�� The men standing over Jesus force him on his feet.�

�� "Control them or they're dead men!" they order Jesus.

�� Jesus sees the blood.

�� Down the wounded man's neck, his shoulders, the side of his robe.� His hand full of blood.

�� Jesus momentarily breaks from the unsuspecting guard's hold and bends down.

�� "Stop him!"

�� He stands back up and scoots his shackled feet toward the wounded man.� He is holding something.

�� "My ear!� That's my ear!� They cut my ear off!"

�� Startled by what he is holding, once again the police are caught off guard.� Jesus reaches with both chained hands to the wounded man now kneeling on the ground.� He touches the ear to the side of the man's bloody head.

�� Then....

�� "The blood!� It's gone!"

�� "What?"

�� "What's going on here?"

�� "You're ear!"

�� "It's back!" [8]

�� The troops stand momentarily motionless, not sure what to do.� Has he been stalling?� Will the fire from heaven come now?� Judas still hopes so.� Why won't Jesus put a stop to all this?

�� Jesus turns around to see those behind him.� And Peter.

�� "eter," he says with a shockingly calm demeanor, "put it away."� It's as though he is talking to a frightened child.� "Put your sword away."

�� Then louder, Jesus speaks the last words he will ever say this side of eternity to his eleven closest friends.�

�� "Everyone who carries around a sword will die by that same weapon."

�� "No, Jesus!"

�� "That's better," the chief priest adds in approval.� "Get them under control and we might be persuaded to let them go."

�� "Do you think I'm helpless?" Jesus ask his friends.� "Don't you realize by now that I could just say the word and my Father, the God of the universe, would send me a full platoon of fiery angels to strike them down?" [9]

�� Silence.�

�� Silence on both sides.�

�� And wondering.�

�� Jesus could always do that.� Silence his friends.� And his enemies.�

�� He still can.�

�� He still does.

�� Then Jesus turns back around and looks straight at the Temple hierarchy that dared lead the ambush to make sure they didn't bungle the job.� Blood is trickling down the side of his head and from his nose from the arrest.�

�� "Am I rebelling against the Temple or the nation?� Am I so dangerous to you that you have to come after me with swords and clubs to arrest me?"

�� No answers.� They know he's right.

�� Still, it does not matter.� They have got him in their all-powerful grip.� That is all that matters now.

�� "Every day I went to the Temple and taught.� You never tried to arrest me when all those people were around."

�� The chief priest throws up his hands in disgust and turns back toward the road.� Judas looks at Jesus with pity and turns to follow.� The others of the religious leaders turn their backs too on Jesus, and walk away.

�� Despite the matted hair and dirt-smudged face from confronting Satan earlier in the evening, and despite the blood, Jesus calls out with authority in his voice.� Making sure the theologians can still hear him, he shouts after them.� "All that has happened tonight you did unknowingly fulfilling prophecies written centuries ago! [10]

�� The commander of the Roman soldiers shouts to his men.� "Let those guys go!� We got what we came for!� I don't think we'll have any more trouble out of them!"

�� Swords and spears are lowered and the military steps back, their eyes still on the eleven civilians.

�� In their guts Jesus' friends know they will pay with their lives if they linger.� They look toward the lights and see a friend being led off.� They know they may never see him again.� He is now but a shimmering shadow.� Then the lights go black.

�� They cannot see.�

�� One by one they scatter toward the trees.� In silence they wait, hoping they can make it to the road when all is clear. [11]

�� Then footsteps are heard racing across the clearing nearby.�

�� "Peter, is that you?" John calls out.

�� "I'm following Jesus!" Peter replies.

�� "Not without me!� I can get us closer with my family connections."

�� "Hurry, John!� They're getting too far ahead of us!"

�� No lights.� By the moonlight, Peter and John make their way out of the orchard and onto the road.

�� Three others walk stealthily one by one out onto the road, keeping their distance from each other, and head toward a nearby city, but not Jerusalem.� It would be too dangerous.�

�� The last six remain in the garden the rest of the night.� Dawn will be in five hours.

�� "Where do you think they're going?" John asks.

�� "Don't know.� Maybe the Temple."

�� "No, that's too public.� They've got to keep him out of sight."

�� A few minutes pass.� "There they are!� We've caught up with them!"

�� "Don't get too close or they'll spot us!"

Jerusalem, Judea

�� They arrive inside the city gates left open after the re-entry of the strongmen.� They follow them past the Temple� Up and down the hills of Jerusalem.� They pass the amphitheater.�

�� "They're headed for the high priest's palace!"

�� "Is that where he lives?"

�� Another couple of blocks and the palace comes into view.� They stop and wait for the mob to go into the palace.

�� "When they're inside," John says, "We'll walk to the front gate and pretend we don't know what's going on!"

�� "What excuse will we give them?"

�� "I'll think of something."

�� The two young men begin the short walk.

�� "Is this is High Priest Caiaphus' palace?" John calls to a guard on duty.

�� "No, his Annas, father-in-law's.� Never gave up the title even after his retirement."

�� "Never gave up the power either."

�� "Looks like they're starting at the top," Peter comments.� "Whatever High Priest Annas says is law." [12]

1:00 AM

�� Arriving at the front gate of the High Priest's palace, John asks to talk to the house stewart.� The guard calls inside for him, and the stewart comes to the gate.

�� "Yes?"

�� "This is John of Capernaum, Zebedee's son.� My friend and I have just arrived in town.� We want to be the first in line to watch the high priest come out in the morning and go to the Temple to begin the Passover ceremonies tomorrow at dusk."

�� "John, is that you?"

�� "Yes, let us in!"

�� "You alone?"

�� "No, I've got a friend with me.� Can he come in too?"

�� "I don't know.� There's a lot of commotion going on here tonight."

�� "A late party?"

�� "We don't know what it is.� But we can't let any strangers in.� Just you."

�� "I've known Peter all my life.� I can vouch for him."

�� "Well, I'm taking a chance.� But okay.� You can both come in."

�� The stewart closes the peephole and orders the gate unbolted.� By the time John and Peter walk in, the stewart has disappeared.� The expansive courtyard with several smaller buildings off it, has an unusual number of people in it considering the lateness.� The palace is nearly dark except for lights in one small section and loud talking. [13]�

�� "Careful now," John warns.� "We don't want anyone recognizing us."

�� "How about your friend?" Peter asks.

�� "Oh, he'll keep his mouth shut."

�� They walk unsurely around one side of the palace and to the back.� Temple guards and police are everywhere.�

�� "They'll recognize us!"

�� "No they won't.� It was too dark."

�� "Just the same, let's separate."

�� "Uh, still got your sword, John?"

�� "Yes, but we're not supposed to use it.� We'll just see what's going on so we can tell the others and run a rescue operation in a couple days."

�� "Right!"

�� The two separate.

�� John is able to mingle with the crowd with some ease, having been seen there on and off through the years with his father and brother.�

�� But suspicion follows the stranger.� Peter must be more subtle.� He pulls a stool over to one side by itself.� He sits and puts his head down hoping not to be recognized but still able to hear.

�� "He's a dead man."

�� Peter looks up, but sees it is just a guard talking to friends.

�� "I'll be surprised if he lasts till morning."

�� "He can't just disappear.� There would be too many questions.� He's too well known."

�� "They'll transfer him somewhere else.� They don't have us on standby for nothing.� It won't take them long."

�� Although the night is cool outside, inside the palace things are heating up.� Several shutters are open.

�� "Who are your co-conspirators?"

�� "What about the Jewish religion?� Why are you telling the people they can celebrate holy feasts without being approved by the priests in accordance with our creed?" [14]

�� Silence.

�� "What's this about telling people it's not a sin if they give their Temple donation to needy parents?" [15]

�� Silence.

�� "Are you actually telling people to read the scriptures without the interpretation of theologians?" [16]

�� "Oh, my God," Peter prays within his aching heart.� "God.� Don't let him die!� Please, God.� I believe he's your son.� Don't let this happen. �He says he has to obey you.� Please, give him back to us.� Don't let Jesus die...."

�� Peter raises his head ever so slightly, and lifts his eyes to comprehend the disposition of the heavy moment.� The moment moving in on him in slow motion and crushing the life out of him.�

�� Heavy he sees each booted military footstep.� Heavy and moving through the low night air with a silent boom that crushes each molecule in its wake.

�� Gloomy he sees each flicker of the yellow lights.� Gloomy and coloring the panorama of doom with mocking hope.

�� Morose the subtle flirtations between maids and troops.�

Morose and brooding and scorning each cry of pain that seeps out of the windows of an unholy world.

�� "More beer!"

�� "Hold your horses.� It's coming.� I can't serve you all at once."

�� The maid picks up a tray loaded with mugs and works her way through the crowd of troops standing, stooping, pacing or sitting sprawled on the ground in the way.� She trips on an outstretched foot, and swerves to maintain control of her cargo of drinks.� Right into Peter.� He stands up to help her regain her balance.

�� "Oh, excuse me, sir.� Thanks.� I....� Do I know you?"

�� "Uh...."� Peter clears his throat and sits back down, his head quickly bowed once more.

�� "Over in the Temple! �I'm sure I bumped into you then too!"

�� Peter remains unmoved, insanely hoping that by closing his eyes, the world around him will go away.

�� "Look at me!"� She sets her tray down and puts her hand under Peter's chin.� "Look at me!� Yeah!� I'm sure I saw you!"� She grows louder.

�� Peter refuses to look at her, but does anyway.� Desperation shows on his face.�

�� "You're one of this rebel leader's stooges!�"

�� Don't say anything, Peter.

�� Don't give anything away.� Don't lie.� Don't go talking too much again.� You know that's your downfall every time.� Don't talk, Peter.� Keep your mouth shut.

�� "I have no idea what you're talking about!"

�� Run, Peter!� Run!� But not too far.� You've got to be there for Jesus.� Only you and John had the nerve to follow him.� None of the others are there.� Stay cool.

�� Peter quickly jumps up, swerves around the maid and the outskirts of the courtyard and heads back toward the outer gate away from the crowd. [17]

�� "Calm down now, Peter," he growls to himself.� "No one pays any attention to a maid.� She's not a trained informant.� Her testimony would mean nothing."

�� Drawing closer to the gate, he slows down, then in its shadow against the outer wall and leans back in the solitude safety.

�� He looks over at the palace.� In the background he can hear the laughter of the troops and girls.� He thinks he can hear shouting.� It must be his holiness the high priest.� Peter's mind transcends the darkness.� He envisions Jesus bound before the priest.� Bound and helpless and headed for execution.

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