Imaginings: An Entry in John's Diary

        Thursday was a long day, Peter and I didn’t intend to fall asleep in the garden, but we had been sent early to prepare for the Passover feast that evening. Finally, when everyone arrived, we began to eat. Jesus appeared stressed. The Jewish leaders had been particularly hard on Him lately. My first indication of His stress came when He took bread and wine, and called it his body and blood. He was difficult person to understand at times. One of us would betray Him He said. Why? We loved Him. Naturally, we wanted to know who the traitor was, but when Judas asked who it was, the rest of us were arguing over who was greatest and we didn’t catch Jesus’ reply. Peter motioned me to ask Jesus. When I did, Jesus dipped a piece of bread in wine and handed it to Judas. That didn’t seem like an answer to us. Strangely, Jesus told Judas to leave; we figured Judas was on a special errand.

            Jesus said some strange things that night—what did it mean that Satan wanted to sift us like wheat? Peter was offended when Jesus announced that he, Peter, would deny Him. We went to the Mt. of Olives after supper. Jesus wanted us to wait and pray with Him. We, being tired from the long day, fell asleep. A short time later, Judas appeared with a crowd of armed people who took Jesus to the house of the High Priest. Because of family connections, I was able to enter the High Priest’s home. It was a cold night and Peter was outside, so I asked a servant girl to let him into the courtyard. Meanwhile, in the house, Jesus was being questioned. Since He admitted being the Son of God, Jewish Law said He must die. The Jewish leaders were powerless to sentence anyone to death. In order to carry out the death sentence, they needed to convince the Roman authorities that Jesus should die. Pilate did not want to kill Jesus, but it would have been political suicide to do otherwise. The true issue had been unveiled. Jesus was a threat to the power base which the Jewish religious leaders had carefully nourished. They played their cards carefully, taking Jesus to Pilate knowing that Pilate would not risk an unfavorable report to Caesar.

            The sign over Jesus’ head was in Aramaic, Latin and Greek. These were the languages of the common people, the aristocracy, and the religious. Interesting. It was difficult to watch Jesus on the cross, yet I felt I had to be there. Even in death he was more concerned about others than He was about Himself. Just before His last breath, he committed His mother’s care to me. The next day was a High Sabbath so He was taken down from the cross. It was late in the day, and we had to hurry with the burial. We did only the absolutely necessary. The women would finish the burial requirements after the Sabbath.

            I remember passing people coming from the Temple as I made my way home that evening. Word on the street said that about the time of the afternoon earthquake, the veil of the Temple was torn completely in two—from top to bottom.

            That Sabbath was a long one for those of us in grief. What would happen to us? Our whole lives had been devoted to a man who did not meet our Messianic expectations.

            At sunrise, the women went to the tomb with spices. How my heart leapt when they came running to Peter and I crying, “He’s Alive!” We found it difficult to believe. Even entering the empty tomb left questions in our minds. Reality did not set in until Jesus came to the room where we were staying. He was the same, yet different. He had tried to tell us what was going to happen, but until we saw with our own eyes that He had risen from the dead, we did not realize that the teacher from Nazareth was our Savior and God.