11th of Nisan 

After last night, I feel the need to be alone. I let everyone go about their business, including Judas. Tonight we will leave the market together and go to the hall for the Passover celebration. I take Peter and John aside for a moment. I tell them that Simon has reserved the guest quarters in the monastery of the Secluded Ones in Jerusalem for us. I want them to go there and prepare the meal.

"But sir, where is the lamb we are to prepare? And how can we have it sacrificed, for the priests in the temple will not slaughter the lambs for three days?"

"Isaac asked his father Abraham the same question. God had summoned Abraham to this mountain to sacrifice his son. Together they walked up the mountain, Isaac carrying the branches for the fire on his back. "God will provide himself with a lamb for the sacrifice," Abraham replied, hoping for God's mercy. So it will be tonight. I do not need to eat meat tonight, but I want to celebrate God's Covenant with you. And besides, even the Separated Ones are forced to celebrate the meal without meat."

"How will we find the monastery?"

"When you enter the city at the water gate, you will see Secluded men among the women fetching water, for there are no women in the monastery. Follow one of them and you will find it. When you ask where the guest quarters reserved for me are, they will show you a large hall, furnished with everything you need."

Later that morning, I go back to the temple. I was in the bathhouse to clean myself for tonight's celebration. People recognize me and come up to me. Once again, I sit down and teach them about the kingship of God. But unfortunately, soon the teachers of the law and the Pharisees arrive, wanting to challenge me. They have a woman with them whom they say has committed adultery. Her accomplice apparently had other obligations because he did not come with them. "Teacher, Moses says in the law that adulterers should be stoned. And you, what do you say?"

They are clever. If I say she should be stoned, they will accuse me before the Romans, because a few years ago Pilate took away the Jews' right to put someone to death. Not that it was customary before that. But if I say that death is the maximum but not the minimum punishment, they will claim that I am setting aside God's law for the Romans. I decide not to answer the question. They keep nagging, and I bend my knees and pretend to be deaf. I write imaginary words on the ground. But they are unstoppable, and I stand up again and look around the circle. "Let him who is without sin cast the first stone." I crouch down again and write without a notebook. The people are silent. No one says anything. Someone leaves the circle. Then another. And more. Eventually, everyone is gone. I stand up. The woman is still standing next to me. "Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?"

"No one, Lord."

"Without witnesses, no one can condemn you. Not even I. Go and sin no more."

       *      

I walk through the city. Once more, I take in all the people I see. As I walk past the market and a little way out of the western gate to Emmaus, I see Roman soldiers at work in the olive grove above the quarry. They are cutting off the crowns and branches of three mature olive trees. I ask the bystanders why these beautiful trees are being destroyed.

"They have captured rebel leader Bar-Abbas and two of his men while they were trying to cause a riot in the city. A Roman soldier was killed in the fighting, and Pilate wants them crucified in full view of everyone when the festival begins. The trees will serve as the posts for the crosses. I think they are enjoying destroying those olive trees, the symbols of our country.'

At the appointed time, I meet my friends at the market. Peter and John take us to the hall where the meal has been prepared.

The eve of the 12th of Nisan

When he shows us into the hall, the gatekeeper asks if we are ritually clean. I nod, but he points to my feet. The Seculars are extremely precise in their cleansing rituals. I don't want to cause offense, so I take off my clothes. I take a bowl of water and wrap a linen cloth around my waist.

Peter refuses. "But Lord, you can't wash my feet, can you?"

"You don't understand what I'm doing now, but you will later."

"You will never wash my feet; I will wash your feet."

"If I do not wash you, you have no part with me."

"Then don't just wash my feet, but also my hands and my head."

"Those who have bathed earlier in the day need only wash their feet. They are already clean, provided their hearts are converted."

One by one, I washed my disciples' feet and dried them with the linen cloth.

When I sat down with them around the table, I asked them if they understood what I had done. "You call me your Master and Lord. And rightly so, for that is what I am. But if I have washed your feet, should you not also be willing to be servants to one another, and not masters?"

It is the evening before the third day of the week when we celebrate the Passover meal. At the beginning of the meal, I raise the first cup of wine: "I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover meal with you before I suffer. For I will not eat it again until it is fulfilled under the reign of God." I pronounce the blessing over the cup:

            "Blessed are You, Lord our God, King without end,

            who created for us the fruit of the vine.

Take this cup and pass it around. Let everyone drink from it, for after tonight we will not do so again until the kingdom of God comes.' When everyone has drunk, I ask John, who is lying to my right, to ask the question that the youngest is supposed to ask during this celebration.

"Why is this evening so different from all other evenings of the year?"

"We were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt, but God redeemed us with his mighty hand. Then he made a covenant with us that he would be our God and we would be his people. That is what we remember tonight."

After drinking the second cup of wine, I take the bread. Again I say the blessing:

            "Blessed are you, Lord our God, King without end,

            who brings bread from the earth.

As I break this bread, I am also broken. I give myself for you. Remember this, whenever you do this. For behold, my betrayer is at the table. I must die, but woe to the one who betrays me."

They are startled. Of course they are startled. Everyone talks at once. Peter, who is sitting opposite John, leans toward him. Then John asks softly, "Who is it, Lord?" "The one to whom I give this bread."

I break the bread into pieces on a plate. "Take it and eat. It is my body."

I look into the eyes of Judas, who is lying to my left, as I hand him the plate with the bread. "Go now, do what you think is necessary. We will see you again in Gethsemane." He nods and stands up.

When the door closes behind him, it is as if something breaks inside me. A feeling of mourning overwhelms me. But I pull myself together. "This is the hour when God is glorified in the Son of Man," I whisper in John's ear.

The meal follows and the people relax a little. Most of them pay little attention to Judas' departure. After all, I had given him a task to perform. After the meal, I take the cup for the fourth time. I feel like Melchizedek, the priest who came with bread and wine to bless Abraham. I pour wine into the cup again. "As I pour out this wine, so my blood will be poured out. For you. Remember this, whenever you do this." I pass the cup around. "Take it and drink from it, all of you. This is the blood of the new covenant, which is poured out for you as atonement for your sins."

These are strange words to them. After all, Moses says that you must not eat the blood:

            For the soul of the flesh is in the blood

            and I have poured it out on the altar.

            to make atonement for your souls.                                        Leviticus 17:10,11

But I am not concerned with the tangible blood of animals, nor with a tangible altar. For the altar of this covenant is the altar of their hearts. And the blood is my life that I give for them.

Children, I will be with you only a little longer. Do you remember my words during the Feast of Tabernacles in Jerusalem? I told the Judeans that I was going back to my Father and that they would not be able to lay a hand on me there. Now I say the same thing to you. Where I am going, you cannot come. Therefore, I give you a new commandment: Love one another. Love one another as I have loved you. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.'

"Lord, who will be your successor as our master?" Some are in favor of Peter. Others find him unstable and choose Simon the Rebel. Still others remember the question of James and John with their mother Salome. In a moment, they will be at each other's throats. They have already forgotten my command before I have even spoken it. I intervene. "Kings rule over their peoples, and those in power are called benefactors by their subjects. It shall not be so among you. The greatest among you must make himself the least, and the leader a servant. What did I do to you just now when I served you with water and a towel?

But I am not ungrateful. In all my troubles, you have always stayed with me. Therefore, I leave you the kingship that my father gave me. You may eat at my table and drink my wine. As kings, you may guide the twelve tribes of Israel on the path they must follow.'

Peter asks, "But Lord, where will you be?"

'Where I am going, you cannot follow. You will follow later.'

"Lord, why can't I follow you now? Can't I be arrested and die with you?"

The others nod in agreement. How I love these men, even though they know themselves so poorly. "Will you give your life for me? Before daybreak, you will loudly deny that you know me. Simon, Simon, the devil wants to sift you like wheat. Everything will fall away from you. But I have prayed that you will not lose your faith in me. And once you have repented, you will encourage your brothers.

Do not be too sad. You trust God, trust me too. In my Father's house there are many rooms. As I have lived with you in Capernaum, I am going to prepare a place for you. And when I have prepared a place for you, I will come back for you, because you know the way.

Judah, the Twin, answers, "But Lord, we don't know where you are going, how can we know the way?"

"I am the way, Judas. I am the truth and the life. No one else will bring you to the Father but me. If you know me, you know the Father."

And Philip said, "Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied."

"Have I been with you so long, and yet you have not seen the Father, Philip? Believe in me, and you will believe in the Father. You will see greater things than you have seen with me, when the Father is glorified. For I will be with the Father, and I will pray to the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, that he may be with you forever. Do not be afraid that I will leave you as orphans. I will ask the Father for a Comforter, the Spirit of truth, who will be with you. In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me. And in my life you will live.

Judas: "Lord, why will we see you, but the world will not?"

If you love me, you will keep my words. And my Father will love you, and we will come to you and make a home with you. But if you don't love me, you won't keep my words. I give you peace, not the peace the world gives. My peace is a gift from my Father. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid. If you love me, you will rejoice that I am going to the Father, for the Father is greater than I.

I have told you this now, before it happens, so that when it happens, you may believe that it is true. We do not have much time to talk. The ruler of this world is coming, and he has no power over me. Let us go. I must obey my Father, because I love him.

The night before the 12th of Nisan         

After singing the song of praise, we stand up. Once outside, we take the Gate of the Separated, so that we are immediately outside the city walls. "Do you remember how I sent you out two by two, without provisions or extra shoes? And did you lack anything then?"

"No."

"Now it is different. Take your money and fill your travel bag. If you have no money, sell your cloak. Buy a sword. For now is the time when the word of Zechariah is fulfilled: 'Strike the shepherd who is my companion, so that the sheep may be scattered.'"

"Lord, we have two swords with us."

"Not now, boys. Now is the time for you all to be scattered. But I will see you again in Galilee."

       *      

When we arrive in Gethsemane, Judas is not there yet. I feel restless and want to pray. I ask Peter, James, and John, who know me best, to come with me. A little further on, I whisper to them, "My soul is dying of fear, please pray for me."

I walk a little further into the garden. I try to pray, "Father, Dad, you can do anything, can't you? Do I really have to drink this cup to the dregs?" Because I don't understand. Surely I am allowed to know why I am dying? I didn't ask for this, God chose me. Maybe it will be like Abraham and Isaac, and a solution will come at the last moment. What mattered was that Abraham obeyed what God had told him to do. Then everything turned out well and he found a young ram, its horns caught in the bushes. It had to turn out well; doesn't the prophet Ezekiel teach us that God hates child sacrifice? When I've calmed down a bit, I'll go back to my friends.

They are asleep. While I am dying of grief, they abandon me. I reproach them. They are ashamed. Once again I want to pray, but now for obedience: "Lord, not my will, but yours." But then I can't hold it in any longer. I start to cry. I pound my fists against the trees and throw myself on the ground. I cry out to God. I no longer care if my friends hear my doubts.

Someone touches me. I look up, but there is no one there. Yet I feel love. I remember how Lazar told me what he had been told: 'You must go back, Lazar, my son needs you.' I remember the loving light. I long for that light. I will obey.

*

I hear noises from the valley. A group of people is coming up the mountainside. I wake my friends. "The time has come, the Son of Man is being betrayed and arrested. Get up, let's go."

It is a large group that has come with Judas. I see temple guards and Roman soldiers. The one in front seems to be a high-ranking officer. Judas approaches me to greet me with a kiss. But I walk toward the officer. "Who are you looking for?"

"Yeshua, the Nazarene."

"It is I. But let my friends go."

Peter does not wait for an answer and cuts off the ear of Malchus, the high priest's personal servant, with his sword. He is a well-known and feared man. I help him to his feet and call Peter back. "Put your sword back in its place. You know that the Romans will kill everyone who takes up arms against them. Why do you think I don't ask my Father for heavenly armies? Must I not drink the cup that he has given me?"

Then I address the leader of the temple guards. "You come at me at night with sticks and swords as if I were a robber. Was I not with you every day in the temple? But apparently the night suits you better than the day."

I surrender. They bind my hands and take me into the city, to the palace of the High Priest. We do not enter the main residence, but another house, equally elegant in its construction and furnishings. It is the house of Annas, the father-in-law of the High Priest. The real ruler of Jerusalem. He asks me who my disciples are, what our organization is like, and what its goals are.

"I have always spoken in public, ask the people."

One of his servants slaps me. "That's no way to talk to the high priest." Typical, he still calls himself high priest. But when I once spoke of turning the other cheek, I did not have him in mind.

"Keep your hands to yourself or tell me what I said wrong." 

He sends me to Caiaphas. They grab me roughly. As we walk into the courtyard, I hear a familiar voice. "I don't know who you're talking about!" It's my own Peter, who is arguing with some servants in the courtyard. Then he sees me and tears spring to his eyes. He stands up and walks out of the gate. It's almost daybreak.

12th of Nisan                         

In Caiaphas' house, my guards blindfold me. "You are a prophet, aren't you? If you know who is striking you, we will stop. If not, we will continue." I remain silent. "Wrong!" they laugh. They continue.

       *      

In the morning, I am taken to the hall of the High Council near the temple. Caiaphas is sitting there with several dozen council members. The High Council has 71 members, half of whom are Rationalists, the others Pious. Twenty-three council members are needed to impose the death penalty. It seems that Caiaphas has made a special effort to bring his party members here. A number of witnesses are called to make accusations.

The Jewish tradition

            The indictment  

            When Yeshua [Jesus] entered, Master Joshua was praying.

            Therefore, he only waved his hand to welcome Yeshua.

            But Yeshua thought he was being rejected.

            He left and set up a stone to worship it.

            "Repent, Yeshua, for you are leading people into idolatry,"

            said Master Joshua. But he replied:

            "Did you not teach me yourself that the sinner is unforgivable

            when others have followed him?"

            A teacher said, "Yeshua the Nazarene has practiced magic

            and led Israel astray.'              Statements of the High Council - 107b

            The law         

            If anyone—even your brother, your mother's son,

            or your son, your daughter, your own wife, or your bosom friend—

            secretly entices you to serve other gods,

            you shall not spare him, nor pity him, nor cover his guilt.

            You shall surely kill him.

            Your own hand shall be the first to raise itself against him to put him to death,

            and then the hand of all the people shall stone him until he dies.

                                                                                      Deuteronomy, 13:6-10, selection

But no two witnesses can explain to the Council members exactly and without contradiction what I have done wrong. Then two stand up: "Yeshua has threatened to set fire to the temple."

The High Priest stands up. "What do you have to say in response to this accusation?" I remain silent. "Answer. Tell the people that you are the Anointed One and that you will destroy the temple."

"You say that. Wait until the Son of Man comes with the clouds of heaven, from the right hand of God. Then you will see."

Caiaphas asks the council members if they want to hear more witnesses. But the outcome is already certain. "He is guilty. He seduces the people into idolatry and is a danger to the safety of the temple and the people. He must die."

I am locked up for the rest of the day. The verdict must be confirmed tomorrow. A death sentence cannot be confirmed on the same day.

13th of Nisan                         

Early the next morning, they need little time to confirm the verdict. Caiaphas has secured a majority, and council members such as Nicodemus know this. Immediately afterwards, they take me to Pilate's courtroom. The High Priest and his Council do not want to enter the building because it has not been cleansed according to the rules of Passover. If they enter the , they cannot participate in the Passover celebrations in the temple. After some time, Pilate, who is staying in the former palace of Herod the Great, arrives and asks in Greek what the charge is. "This is Yeshua of Nazareth. He has already been sentenced to death because he claims to be the Anointed One and is leading the people into idolatry. Give us permission to execute him."

Pilate had taken that authority away from them several years earlier, and since then they had to ask his permission first. They wanted the sentence carried out today, because tomorrow was the great day of preparation for the feast. But to their surprise, Pilate refused to cooperate. "If it is a religious conflict, you must settle it yourselves. At this moment, the Samaritans are already preparing charges against me for killing their Anointed One. You will have to come up with a better case."

After some discussion, the High Priest says, "He claims to be king and is trying to prevent the people from paying the imperial taxes." That is a charge that Pilate must take seriously. He has me brought in for questioning.

"Are you the king of the Jews?"

"Is that your opinion or is it what others say?"

"I am not a Jew. Your people handed you over to me. But now tell me the truth: what have you done to the High Priest that he thinks he needs to come here with a new charge?"

"My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my disciples would have fought for me."

"So you are a kind of king after all?"

"You say that. I have come to tell the truth about God. Whoever is from the truth hears my voice."

"What is truth?"

Pilate has me taken outside and says to the High Priest, "I find no fault in this man. You must settle your religious disputes without me."

But they continue to insist. "He's stirring everyone up with his Galilean teachings."

Pilate jumps up. "So he is someone from Galilee, a subject of Herod?"

When they confirm this, he sends me to Herod, who is also in town for the feast, glad to be rid of me for the time being.

Herod receives me in the afternoon, after hearing the charges from the high priest. He smiles at me and says he has wanted to meet me for a long time. He has heard so many wonderful stories about me. He showers me with questions. But when I respond stiffly, he becomes angry. Still, I know he will not harm me. I was in Batanea and felt how his own Jewish horsemen are still seething with anger over his murder of the Baptist. He must know that he cannot afford another murder now that his father-in-law is ready to attack.

Herod gives orders to the commander of his bodyguard, and they take me away. They are not Jews but foreign mercenaries, Gauls and Germans. Our people dislike them, and they hate our customs. They beat me and spit on me. They put a purple royal robe on me—it must be an old one that belonged to Herod himself. Then I am taken back to Pilate's courthouse. He sees me come in and says, " , that troublemaker from Tiberias, has a sense of humor." I am locked up in a dungeon. How are my friends? And my mother?

14th of Nisan 

The next day, my thirtieth Passover, I am brought before Pilate early in the morning. Pilate nods to me. "I don't know how you do it, Yeshua, but even my wife wants me to release you. She slept badly all night because of this case." When the High Priest and several other Council members are present, Pilate speaks. "I have insufficient evidence against him, and Herod has not sentenced him to death. I will have him flogged and release him at noon, as I release a prisoner every year on this feast. When I am done with him, no one will see him as king anymore."

His soldiers take me inside. Perhaps this is the miracle that happened to Abraham and Isaac. But it is not a painless miracle. I have to take off my clothes. My hands are tied high up to a pole. Two soldiers each have a short staff with two whips attached to it, weighted at the ends with small iron diabolos. They stand behind me. Then they strike. They strike my back. They strike my buttocks. My flesh gives way. I feel blood. They beat my hips and my ankles. I hang from the ropes that bind me. They beat my shoulders. I no longer have the strength to tense my body against the blows. But I feel less pain now than at the beginning.

They untie the ropes and I fall to the ground. Then someone grabs my head firmly. Someone else steps towards me. He has something in his hands. It is woven branches. There are thorns on them. And then, flames of pain shoot through my head. I scream. They laugh. "A beautiful crown for a peasant from Galilee." They put Herod's purple robe back on me. Someone hits me on the head with a stick. Then he presses the stick into my hands as a scepter. "Hail, hail. Here is the king of the Jews!"

       *      

The sun is already high when we come back outside. It is black with people. Pilate is there, and so is Caiaphas. Next to them stands a group of soldiers with Barabbas and his two comrades. Pilate must have signed their death warrants here in front of the crowd.

The soldiers bring me forward. They kneel before me and shout again. "Hail, the king of the Jews!" Pilate stands up: "There he is." Then he sits down on his right-hand seat. "Every year at Passover we release a prisoner. I will grant your king clemency."

But the crowd rises as one. "We don't want him. We want Barabbas." Pilate has underestimated Caiaphas. Thousands of people work for the temple. Not only priests, but also construction workers, shop assistants, and cleaners. A large crowd fills the narrow streets. The bloodbath and accusations that Pilate wanted to avoid are now threatening to take place. My head is spinning. Will he have me killed after all?

"Bar-Abbas is a rebel leader and responsible for the death of a Roman soldier. That must be avenged."

"You yourself admitted that Yeshua proclaimed himself king. Anyone who rises up against the emperor must be put to death. If you release him, people will say that you are no friend of the emperor."

He looks at me. I remain silent. "Do you want to address them yourself?" I shake my head.

"But what should I do with your Anointed One?"

"Crucify him! Crucify him!" cries the crowd.

Pilate stands up and urges them to be quiet. "Shall I crucify your king?"

The high priest replies, "We have no king but the emperor."

Pilate has to admit that Caiaphas has skillfully manipulated the situation. He sits down again and formulates a pragmatic judgment: "It is your choice, my hands are clean. I will release Barabbas. Crucify Yeshua in his place."

The soldiers take me inside with the other three prisoners. They pull off my cloak, but more carefully now. As if they themselves are disconcerted by this bizarre turn of events. Bar-Abbas had killed one of them. I think of the story of Isaac and the lamb that God gave. Bar-Abbas, a pseudonym meaning son of the father, is like Isaac. The son of Abraham, the father of our people. I am the lamb that God gave them in his place, with his young horns entangled in the thorn bushes. The crown of thorns is removed from my head. I am allowed to put on my own clothes.

The soldiers line up. All three of us are given a heavy beam to carry on our shoulders. Our own crossbeam. Just as Isaac had to carry the branches on which he was to be sacrificed. But he did not know that he was going to die. I stagger, because I am exhausted and everything hurts.

We walk from the courthouse across the market to the western gate. A crowd of people surrounds us. These are not the High Priest's servants. These are men and women who sympathize with me and with the Rebels. The people look serious. Then I stumble under the weight of the crossbeam. I hear women wailing. The soldiers are merciful and practical. They address the first man who enters the city through the gate and force him to carry my crossbeam. I get back on my feet. "Women of Jerusalem, do not weep for me. Weep for yourselves and your children. For the days will come when you will be glad that you did not give birth to children or nurse them. Days when you will wish that the mountains and hills would bury you, rather than see the disaster that is coming upon this city. For if they do this to the green branch, what will happen to the barren fig tree?"

*

Just outside the gate, above the quarry and clearly visible from the main road, stand the olive trees whose branches and tops have been cut off by the Romans. One of the three, the middle one, was intended for Bar-Abbas. Now it is mine. They take the crossbeams and fasten them with ropes in a convenient place on or to the trunk. Above them they nail the board with the charge. I see that Pilate has written what the high priest did not want to hear. In Latin, Greek, and Aramaic it says my name and behind it: "King of the Jews." I see my brothers and friends standing in the distance. There are many women. Where is my mother? The twelve are nowhere to be seen. Wise

I have to take off my clothes. They offer me a spicy wine to numb me before they nail me to the cross. I refuse. Two soldiers order me to stand on a rock, facing the tree trunk. I cover my shame with my hands. But they grab my hands and stretch my arms along the crossbar. Then they push my head under the crossbar. A third soldier stands behind me. "Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do." The pain is excruciating. My thumb cramps in the palm of my hand. With three quick blows, he drives a nail through my wrist. Then my other wrist follows. Next to me, I hear the screams of the rebels undergoing the same treatment.

The soldier steps off the rock. They grab my foot and press it against the trunk. A plank is placed against my ankle. Then he drives a nail through the plank, through my ankle, and into the trunk of the tree. When they grab my other foot, my weight hangs on three nails and three joints. I faint for a moment. When I come to, my other foot is also nailed down. They roll the boulder away.

*       *       *

Breathing is extremely difficult. I have to put all my strength into the nails through my ankles to lift myself up a little. But that only prolongs the crucifixion. I stop and surrender to death. Next to me, the two men are struggling. I can hear their labored breathing. The four soldiers who crucified me divide my clothes and sandals. The fifth part is my undergarment, woven from a single piece. They draw lots for it.

It will take hours. Bystanders disappear. But the stream of passers-by and pilgrims for the festival continues. Pilate has chosen a good place and day to demonstrate his power over the Rebels. People stop for a moment. Then they understand that I too have been crucified. Some are shocked, others mock me. The soldiers make cynical remarks but also occasionally hold up a sponge to wet our lips. One of the rebels is bitter. "You were the Anointed One, weren't you? Why didn't you fight like us? If you were really the Anointed One, you would come down from here and free us too."

"Don't you understand yet?" says the voice of another Rebel. "He didn't cause this crucifixion, we did. Because we wanted to force God to deliver us, we are hanging here and he is hanging in Bar-Abbas' place." And then: "Yeshua, remember me when you stand before the king."

"I will certainly remember you. Today you will be with me in the paradise of God."

Dear Father, how I long for your garden of light.

The women are coming closer. They need not fear arrest. I see Mary of Magdala, Mary the wife of Chalphai, Salome the wife of Zebedee. Next to them stands another disciple. John, Salome's son. He is dear to me as Peter, but yet very different. Then I see my mother standing there. She seems smaller. I remember our conversation about the sword that would pierce her soul. And the mother in Nain to whom I was allowed to return her son. Did I fail her? This last year has not been easy. My youngest brothers—Judah, Simon, and Joseph—are not yet old enough to earn a living. And Jacob is content with poverty, as long as he can study. Jacob, who could mean so much to my friends in the Holy Land. I straighten up again. "Woman, see your son. John, see your mother." She cries. John puts his arm around her to comfort her. The two of them walk away.

The sun has disappeared. It is getting dark and bleak. It is having a huge impact on me right now. I no longer have any prayers from my heart. But I want to keep praying. I mumble songs of David as prayers.

Until I come to that word of David, which is truly the question of my heart. With the little breath I have left, I cry out:

            "My God. My God. Why have you forsaken me?"                       Psalm 22:2a

But there is no answer. I have never felt so godforsaken and miserable. I was able to bear the pain when they scourged me, even when they crucified me, because I knew I was carried by the love and spirit of my father. But I don't know this feeling, I don't understand it.

David's words again. "My soul thirsts for God." A soldier hears them and raises the sponge again. But it does not comfort me; I want my father to hear me. "Why are you downcast, my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I will praise him, my Savior and my God." Where is God who redeems me? There is no miraculous deliverance for me like there was for Isaac. There is not even the power of God to sustain me. "Father, hold my spirit in your hands."

I was obedient. I persevered. Even though you did not hear me.

The black

They say it cannot be much longer, the day of rest is approaching. Two soldiers walk with sticks toward a crucified man. Two practiced blows, a weary cry of pain, and both legs are broken. Without the support of his legs, he quickly begins to suffocate. "This one is already dead," says the smaller of the two soldiers. The other grabs a spear and stabs the crucified man in the torso. Only now do I understand that I am floating and looking down at my own body. I hear people crying.

One of the rebels is with me. And we see a narrow gate, from which a soft, clear light is coming. The light is pure love. The light is like my father and like people with open arms. I see my companion being covered by that light. He is taken through the gate. I want to go too, but I can't. "You don't have a wedding garment." Stunned, I see a gap forming between us, which grows wider and wider. Then they disappear.

I see Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea talking to the soldiers. Then they pull the long nails out of my wrists and ankles. Lovingly, they lay the naked body, my body, on a shroud. According to the rules for burying those who have been executed, they do their utmost not to let a single drop of blood be lost for the last day. They fold an oblong cloth over my head down to my feet. Then they carry the body to a hollowed-out tomb, a stone's throw away.

It grows darker and darker around me. I see the figures of the other crucified men. I see Judas, he too has died. We know without words. Suicide. Shocked that I was crucified . It is a wide gate, a wide hole through which we sink. Everything goes black. Wailing and gnashing of teeth. Prisoners of death.

And the devil says, "It is written:

            What profit is there in my blood

in my descent into hell?

            Can dust praise you,

            can that declare your faithfulness?'                                                           Psalm 30:10

But I remember the calling of my father.

            The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

            because the Lord has anointed me;

            He has sent me to bring good news to the humble;

            to bind up the brokenhearted,

            to proclaim liberty to the captives

            and to set free those who are bound

            to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor.                        Isaiah 61:1,2a