Dear Theophilus,
Heavy times, indeed! I can hardly imagine a room that would have
been more somber. Here they were,
gathered for this feast, and despite the storm clouds gathering I anticipated
it would have been a ray of light in the midst of that present darkness. Instead, it seems as though there is more
darkness than when they gathered.
Between betrayal and abandonment, I have to wonder about the selection
of the disciples! I know that you say
all humans are designed that way, but it seems like it wouldn’t have taken much
for Jesus to choose a few disciples that might have displayed a little more
fortitude when the enemy bared his teeth!
Nevertheless, these are the men
that Jesus chose, and I suppose he chose them for a reason, rather than just
opting for the first twelve available men.
I do not know if any more conversation took place at the feast—I doubt
that anyone had much to say after Jesus’ announcement that each and every one
of them would betray him—so Jesus went, as he was used to doing, to the Mount
of Olives outside of Jerusalem. The
disciples followed him, many of them certainly determined to prove to him that
they would not fail. Upon reaching the
destination, he gave them a very specific instruction—to pray that they might
avoid the trials that awaited.
Jesus then went a bit farther and
knelt down in earnest prayer. He begged
to God, calling him Father, for the cup to be removed from him, but in the
midst of his desperate plea he had the humility to submit his own will, offering
up his own life if it was God’s will. It
has been rumored that his own strength was failing and that he found himself
renewed by an angel, causing him to pray even more fervently, so passionately,
in fact, that his sweat was like blood when it splashed upon the ground. I doubt such a detail, but perhaps it is
true. For a man who wonders whether or
not God is even up there, it’s a bit much to imagine an angel offering strength
to someone praying to him.
Theophilus, I’ll admit that I’m a
bit skeptical about prayer, and the next bit doesn’t do much to contradict my
belief. Having concluded his own prayer,
Jesus got up and found the disciples, the determined eleven, asleep at the
watch, exhausted from grief. Jesus
scolded them, asking them why they were sleeping, exhorting them to get up and
pray as he had told them.
But it was too late. Such prayers, if offered, would go
unanswered, for a crowd appeared as the words still hung upon the crisp,
evening air. A crowd of any size would
have been unexpected at this hour, thus the disciples had to be gripped by fear
when they realized that the crowd was for Jesus, and for them, too. Surely, they would have looked to Jesus for
courage, and whatever strength he had, be it angel-sourced or not, seemed to
have been transferred, for the disciples asked Jesus if they should attack with
the sword.
One of them, not willing to wait
for an answer in the face of the threatening crowd, raced forward and cut off
the right ear of one of the slaves of the high priest, but Jesus stopped
further violence with a cry, “No more!”
In a move more compassionate than most of us could ever imagine, he
reached forward and supposedly healed the man’s ear, the slave of a leader of
the crowd present to arrest him. Such
power used for such a small act of mercy in the face of one’s enemies must have
left some sort of impression on the crowd, even a crowd as malevolent as this
one.
At the head of the crowd was Judas,
the betrayer, the disciple-turned-enemy.
He went forward to kiss Jesus, the signal in a dark place that this was
their target, but Jesus confronted him, asking him if a kiss was how he
intended to betray the Son of Man. I
have discovered no record of Judas’ reply, perhaps because it caught in his
throat as he realized the totality of his actions.
Jesus, surrounded by raging
disciples and an angry crowd, could not help but ask the chief priests and
other leaders of the crowd why they came armed with swords and clubs as though
he were some violent criminal. He
reminded them that he had been in the temple daily, teaching peacefully, and
yet they chose not to touch him there.
Yet under the cover of darkness, he offered, they found power in their
time.
They had little time or energy to
listen to his words. The crowd was angry
and had a purpose, and with that purpose they seized him, leading him away like
some trophy to the high priest’s house.
The disciples, that passionate crowd, determined to be faithful, are
lost in this record. The only one whom I
could track was Peter, who trailed the crowd at a safe distance, ensuring he
was not noticed but not willing to admit that all was lost.
Here we are, Theophilus. These waters are above me. My investigations lead me onto the Mount of
Olives, where I find record of one who observed the man at desperate prayer,
and I discover an angry mob, armed to the teeth, ready to strike the man
down. I am unsure what to make of all of
this—I know that Jesus spoke plainly and openly attacked the leaders, but to
bring an armed crowd under the cover of darkness seems extreme. I know that you know what happens next, and I
await your reply. I find myself caught
up in the story, but I am sure you will include what it all means as well!
Sincerely,
Luke
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