Part 2 of 4.
TUESDAY
The following morning Jerry Francis and his 1st century companions—Mordecai, Simon the Zealot, and the other two men—left the tiny room in which they were staying and made their way toward the Temple in Jerusalem. The previous evening had been frantic for Jerry. After being separated from the other men when a near-riot broke out in the Temple courtyard, caused when Jesus overturned the moneychangers’ tables and released all the doves before they could be sold, he did his best to retrace his steps back to the small, squalid room. At first Jerry thought he could find the run-down boarding house, but then the maze of narrow streets and alleys in ancient Jerusalem completely baffled him.
Jerry must have wandered for two or three hours. He felt so lonely in this strange place during this strange time. He desperately wanted to be back in his suburban Connecticut home in the 21st century with his wife and kids. He was so despondent he almost prayed. But not having done so for over 20 years, he didn’t know how. And besides, he really didn’t believe it would do any good because, frankly, he didn’t believe in God. Jerry had no clue how he had been whisked away from his modern, New England world into 1st century Palestine. He had to admit during the past two days he was somewhat fascinated at seeing in person the man who seemed to be the historical Jesus Christ, but he didn’t believe any of the things he was taught about Jesus in the catechism classes of his youth, the superstitious, supernatural stories his wife Brenda sincerely embraced.
Exhausted and frightened that previous evening, Jerry was just about to give up. Eventually he stopped walking and he sat down along the side of a narrow street with his back against a building. He began to weep. After about 20 minutes he heard a voice say, “Jeremiah! Is that you?”
When Jerry looked up through teary eyes, he saw Mordecai. He was never so happy to see a familiar face. It was dusk, and in another ten minutes it would’ve been too dark for Mordecai to recognize him. “Oh, thank God!” Jerry blurted out, completely missing the irony of his statement. After Mordecai helped Jerry to his feet, he escorted him back to the small room. The rest of the band of zealots had already returned. They shared their meager rations of stale bread, dried fish, and weak wine. After eating, Jerry’s stomach still grumbled, as it had been doing since he arrived in this strange world. Jerry thought of the Boston Post Road back home that ran through the towns of Milford and Orange, with a seemingly endless stretch of fast food franchises and family restaurants. I’d give anything for a Big Mac right about now, he thought.
The men talked long into the night about the day’s unexpected events. Jerry listened for a while, but fatigue overcame him and the smelly hay on the dirt floor seemed as luxurious as a king-sized bed at the Plaza Hotel. Jerry fell into a long and deep sleep.
Jerry must have wandered for two or three hours. He felt so lonely in this strange place during this strange time. He desperately wanted to be back in his suburban Connecticut home in the 21st century with his wife and kids. He was so despondent he almost prayed. But not having done so for over 20 years, he didn’t know how. And besides, he really didn’t believe it would do any good because, frankly, he didn’t believe in God. Jerry had no clue how he had been whisked away from his modern, New England world into 1st century Palestine. He had to admit during the past two days he was somewhat fascinated at seeing in person the man who seemed to be the historical Jesus Christ, but he didn’t believe any of the things he was taught about Jesus in the catechism classes of his youth, the superstitious, supernatural stories his wife Brenda sincerely embraced.
Exhausted and frightened that previous evening, Jerry was just about to give up. Eventually he stopped walking and he sat down along the side of a narrow street with his back against a building. He began to weep. After about 20 minutes he heard a voice say, “Jeremiah! Is that you?”
When Jerry looked up through teary eyes, he saw Mordecai. He was never so happy to see a familiar face. It was dusk, and in another ten minutes it would’ve been too dark for Mordecai to recognize him. “Oh, thank God!” Jerry blurted out, completely missing the irony of his statement. After Mordecai helped Jerry to his feet, he escorted him back to the small room. The rest of the band of zealots had already returned. They shared their meager rations of stale bread, dried fish, and weak wine. After eating, Jerry’s stomach still grumbled, as it had been doing since he arrived in this strange world. Jerry thought of the Boston Post Road back home that ran through the towns of Milford and Orange, with a seemingly endless stretch of fast food franchises and family restaurants. I’d give anything for a Big Mac right about now, he thought.
The men talked long into the night about the day’s unexpected events. Jerry listened for a while, but fatigue overcame him and the smelly hay on the dirt floor seemed as luxurious as a king-sized bed at the Plaza Hotel. Jerry fell into a long and deep sleep.
* * *
Now it was Tuesday morning. The men walked briskly toward the Temple. Jerry had to hurry to keep up with them. They continued to talk about the previous day’s events. From the bits and pieces of what Jerry heard, it seemed the main problem—at least from the point of view of Jewish zealots who wanted to wage war against Romans—was that there were no Romans. The soldiers who had caused the panic were Temple guards, all fellow Jews. The Romans rarely appeared in the Temple courtyard since Gentiles are forbidden to enter. That would really cause the people to riot. Jerry smiled and thought to himself, I guess I’d better not tell these guys I was born and raised Catholic, not that they would know what that word means—not that I really know what it means either.
As they walked and talked, Simon the Zealot seemed very concerned. Some of the bits and pieces Jerry heard him say included, “Jesus didn’t say anything about the Romans,” “Why did he attack the Jewish merchants? We need them on our side,” and, “He’s not going to rally the people to fight Rome if he keeps talking only about spiritual things.”
Jerry also heard some of Mordecai’s comments in response to Simon, such as, “Don’t worry, he knows what he’s doing,” “He has to act like he’s focused only on spiritual things so the Romans don’t get suspicious,” and, “When the right time comes, he surely will switch from preaching to fighting.”
Although Jerry paid little attention during the catechism classes of his youth—and he summarily dismissed those lessons as nonsense when he became an adult—he did remember some of the stories. He walked a little quicker to catch up to Mordecai, and said quietly so as not to be overheard, “You know, Morty, you might be misjudging this Jesus. Like I told you the other day, I don’t think he has plans to fight the Romans.”
“You too?” Mordecai said angrily. “Just because Jesus did not begin the revolt yesterday, you’re suddenly doubting that he wants to lead Israel?”
“Well, I’m pretty sure he wants to lead,” Jerry said. “But not as a military leader. He’s a religious leader.”
Mordecai laughed. “Throughout our history, our best leaders were both!” he said. “You have such little faith, Jeremiah. You remind me of my brother.”
Finally, the men reached the Temple and entered through one of the ornate gates. The courtyards were just as crowded as the previous day. This time they found Jesus on the opposite side of the same open area, away from the moneychangers’ tables. A large crowd of common folk surrounded Jesus, but unlike yesterday, there were also about a dozen distinguished looking men nearby, decked out in fancy robes. These men appeared to be arguing with Jesus.
Simon, Mordecai, Jerry, and the other men pushed their way forward to get as close to Jesus as possible. When they got within earshot, they heard one of the distinguished men say to Jesus, “Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar?”
Jesus replied, “Why are you testing me? Bring me a denarius.” Someone in the crowd passed a small coin forward. Jesus took the coin and said, “Whose image and inscription is on this?”
After hesitating for a moment, a couple of the distinguished men said, “Caesar’s.”
Jesus turned and spoke loudly so the whole crowd could hear him: “Then give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and to God what belongs to God!”
The distinguished men appeared stunned. They glanced at each other with quizzical expressions and said nothing. The other people nearby, who at first seemed just as confused by Jesus’ statement, began to cheer when they noticed that Jesus had silenced his adversaries.
Jerry nudged Mordecai and said, “Who are those guys?”
Mordecai answer in a slow monotone, as if his mind was preoccupied with a completely different thought. “They are the chief priests, scribes, and elders,” he said.
Just as Mordecai finished speaking, Simon spun around and put his face inches from Mordecai’s. “Did you hear what he said?!” Simon shouted angrily. “He said, ‘Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar’! What does that mean?! According to the Romans, everything belongs to Caesar. In addition to our taxes, are we suppose to give Caesar our homes, our animals, our children, and our lives, too?!”
“I don’t know what it means, Simon,” Mordecai said, a pained expression on his face.
“I can’t believe it!” Simon shouted, his face turning red as he spoke. “Jesus just told us to pay taxes to Rome! He’s a traitor!”
Mordecai tried to calm Simon down, but his heart wasn’t into it. He felt hurt and confused by Jesus’ words. Then Simon looked past Mordecai into the crowd and his eyes opened wide with recognition. “Iscariot!” he yelled. “Over here! Hey Judas!”
Simon pushed between Mordecai and Jerry, and a moment later came back dragging a tall, thin man with a terrified look on his face. “This is Judas the Iscariot,” Simon said to the others while forcing a cordial smile. “Maybe he can explain Jesus’ words for us.”
Mordecai stared at Judas, then glanced quickly at Simon and arched is eyebrows in surprise. Mordecai was amazed that Simon would even acknowledge Judas, let alone speak to him in a friendly voice. Mordecai had spent many nights listening to Simon complain about his fellow disciples, asking how someone as brilliant and shrewd as Jesus could’ve chosen so many ignorant men to be his trusted inner circle. Simon referred to most of them as “blockhead fishermen” who didn’t even realize they were being oppressed by Rome. However, when it came to Judas the Iscariot, Simon admitted that he was an intelligent man, but referred to him derisively as “the coward.” According to Simon the Zealot, Judas the Iscariot was afraid of his own shadow. Judas would not take any risks at all.
“So, Judas, my friend,” Simon said, his attempt at camaraderie quite unconvincing. “You understand Jesus better than those fishermen. What did he mean by, ‘Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar’?”
“I, I don’t know,” Judas stammered nervously. “I don’t know anything anymore. I thought I understood Jesus. Really, I did. But now, I… he…” Judas closed his eyes and hung his head.
“Now, now, old friend,” Simon said. “Surely you have some idea. Let’s talk about it.”
Judas looked up toward Simon and was about to speak, but then he noticed some scribes and Pharisees nearby. A wave of fear swept across his face. “Not here,” he said. “It’s not safe here.”
“OK,” Simon said. “Let’s find a quiet place. Where shall we go?”
Mordecai and Jerry watched this scene in silent amazement. Mordecai was confused, and wondered what Simon was doing. He wondered even more what Jesus was doing. Jerry looked at the scribes and Pharisees who so obviously instilled fear in Judas. He looked around the vast courtyard and the diverse crowd. A feeling of paranoia came over him. He shuddered involuntarily. The idea of a quiet place suddenly sounded very attractive.
As they walked and talked, Simon the Zealot seemed very concerned. Some of the bits and pieces Jerry heard him say included, “Jesus didn’t say anything about the Romans,” “Why did he attack the Jewish merchants? We need them on our side,” and, “He’s not going to rally the people to fight Rome if he keeps talking only about spiritual things.”
Jerry also heard some of Mordecai’s comments in response to Simon, such as, “Don’t worry, he knows what he’s doing,” “He has to act like he’s focused only on spiritual things so the Romans don’t get suspicious,” and, “When the right time comes, he surely will switch from preaching to fighting.”
Although Jerry paid little attention during the catechism classes of his youth—and he summarily dismissed those lessons as nonsense when he became an adult—he did remember some of the stories. He walked a little quicker to catch up to Mordecai, and said quietly so as not to be overheard, “You know, Morty, you might be misjudging this Jesus. Like I told you the other day, I don’t think he has plans to fight the Romans.”
“You too?” Mordecai said angrily. “Just because Jesus did not begin the revolt yesterday, you’re suddenly doubting that he wants to lead Israel?”
“Well, I’m pretty sure he wants to lead,” Jerry said. “But not as a military leader. He’s a religious leader.”
Mordecai laughed. “Throughout our history, our best leaders were both!” he said. “You have such little faith, Jeremiah. You remind me of my brother.”
Finally, the men reached the Temple and entered through one of the ornate gates. The courtyards were just as crowded as the previous day. This time they found Jesus on the opposite side of the same open area, away from the moneychangers’ tables. A large crowd of common folk surrounded Jesus, but unlike yesterday, there were also about a dozen distinguished looking men nearby, decked out in fancy robes. These men appeared to be arguing with Jesus.
Simon, Mordecai, Jerry, and the other men pushed their way forward to get as close to Jesus as possible. When they got within earshot, they heard one of the distinguished men say to Jesus, “Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar?”
Jesus replied, “Why are you testing me? Bring me a denarius.” Someone in the crowd passed a small coin forward. Jesus took the coin and said, “Whose image and inscription is on this?”
After hesitating for a moment, a couple of the distinguished men said, “Caesar’s.”
Jesus turned and spoke loudly so the whole crowd could hear him: “Then give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and to God what belongs to God!”
The distinguished men appeared stunned. They glanced at each other with quizzical expressions and said nothing. The other people nearby, who at first seemed just as confused by Jesus’ statement, began to cheer when they noticed that Jesus had silenced his adversaries.
Jerry nudged Mordecai and said, “Who are those guys?”
Mordecai answer in a slow monotone, as if his mind was preoccupied with a completely different thought. “They are the chief priests, scribes, and elders,” he said.
Just as Mordecai finished speaking, Simon spun around and put his face inches from Mordecai’s. “Did you hear what he said?!” Simon shouted angrily. “He said, ‘Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar’! What does that mean?! According to the Romans, everything belongs to Caesar. In addition to our taxes, are we suppose to give Caesar our homes, our animals, our children, and our lives, too?!”
“I don’t know what it means, Simon,” Mordecai said, a pained expression on his face.
“I can’t believe it!” Simon shouted, his face turning red as he spoke. “Jesus just told us to pay taxes to Rome! He’s a traitor!”
Mordecai tried to calm Simon down, but his heart wasn’t into it. He felt hurt and confused by Jesus’ words. Then Simon looked past Mordecai into the crowd and his eyes opened wide with recognition. “Iscariot!” he yelled. “Over here! Hey Judas!”
Simon pushed between Mordecai and Jerry, and a moment later came back dragging a tall, thin man with a terrified look on his face. “This is Judas the Iscariot,” Simon said to the others while forcing a cordial smile. “Maybe he can explain Jesus’ words for us.”
Mordecai stared at Judas, then glanced quickly at Simon and arched is eyebrows in surprise. Mordecai was amazed that Simon would even acknowledge Judas, let alone speak to him in a friendly voice. Mordecai had spent many nights listening to Simon complain about his fellow disciples, asking how someone as brilliant and shrewd as Jesus could’ve chosen so many ignorant men to be his trusted inner circle. Simon referred to most of them as “blockhead fishermen” who didn’t even realize they were being oppressed by Rome. However, when it came to Judas the Iscariot, Simon admitted that he was an intelligent man, but referred to him derisively as “the coward.” According to Simon the Zealot, Judas the Iscariot was afraid of his own shadow. Judas would not take any risks at all.
“So, Judas, my friend,” Simon said, his attempt at camaraderie quite unconvincing. “You understand Jesus better than those fishermen. What did he mean by, ‘Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar’?”
“I, I don’t know,” Judas stammered nervously. “I don’t know anything anymore. I thought I understood Jesus. Really, I did. But now, I… he…” Judas closed his eyes and hung his head.
“Now, now, old friend,” Simon said. “Surely you have some idea. Let’s talk about it.”
Judas looked up toward Simon and was about to speak, but then he noticed some scribes and Pharisees nearby. A wave of fear swept across his face. “Not here,” he said. “It’s not safe here.”
“OK,” Simon said. “Let’s find a quiet place. Where shall we go?”
Mordecai and Jerry watched this scene in silent amazement. Mordecai was confused, and wondered what Simon was doing. He wondered even more what Jesus was doing. Jerry looked at the scribes and Pharisees who so obviously instilled fear in Judas. He looked around the vast courtyard and the diverse crowd. A feeling of paranoia came over him. He shuddered involuntarily. The idea of a quiet place suddenly sounded very attractive.
WEDNESDAY
Early Wednesday morning Jerry Francis and his companions, Mordecai and Simon the Zealot, left their smelly room in the squalid boarding house and walked through a maze of shadowy streets and alleyways in old Jerusalem. With each passing day since he arrived in this place, 20 centuries removed from his life in suburban Connecticut, Jerry thought less and less about home and more and more about the situation in which he was immersed. Oh, he certainly thought about his previous life, especially at night just before falling asleep. Jerry would shed tears as he longed to embrace his wife Brenda and his children Michael and Jennifer. Then each morning he woke up thinking for a moment that he was back in his own bed, in the 3-bedroom raised ranch on a cul-de-sac in Hamden. But one look around the dark and dank room made him realize he was still in Jerusalem, and his heart sank.
As Mordecai and Simon continued to plot the overthrow of the hated Roman occupiers, expecting Jesus of Nazareth to be their inspirational leader, Jerry wracked his brain to remember the details he was taught about Jesus in the catechism classes of his youth. I wish I had gone to church with Brenda once in a while, he thought to himself, frustrated that he had given the topic absolutely no thought in a least 20 years. But Jerry had a good excuse for not giving Jesus any thought for such a long time: he truly believed it was all fairy tales. Now that he was thrust into the middle of these events by some inexplicable cosmic force, the idea that it was all fairy tales seemed quite foolish. He was seeing the various incidents unfold right before his own eyes. Other than knowing that Jesus would be crucified on Friday, however, Jerry was vague about any other particulars.
For at least the hundredth time in the last three days Jerry reached for his right hip. Then he paused and shook his head with a frustrated grin. Oh yeah, he thought, I can’t do a Google search about the details of Holy Week because I don’t have an iPhone anymore. And even if I did, the Internet won’t exist for another 2,000 years.
The three men came to a doorway at the end of an especially narrow alley. Simon gave three quick raps on the door and waited impatiently while the door was unbolted from within. When the door started to swing open slowly, Simon and Mordecai pushed it forcefully, and quickly entered the building. Jerry followed more cautiously. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Then he saw that it was Judas the Iscariot who had let them in. This was the meeting the men had planned the previous day while in the Temple courtyard. Jerry thought to himself, Hey, I also know something about Judas. He betrays Jesus…I think.
“I wasn’t sure if you would still be here,” Simon said to Judas with a sneer.
“Where else would I be?” Judas replied.
“I fully expected that you’d flee Jerusalem in fear and return to your hometown,” Simon answered. Mordecai looked at Simon and then looked toward Judas and vigorously nodded his head in agreement.
Judas shrugged his shoulders and offered a crooked smile. Apparently being accused of cowardice was a common occurrence, one to which Judas had grown accustomed.
Simon got right down to business. “OK,” he said, “we’re alone. There are no scary Pharisees or scribes around. So, Judas, my friend, what exactly is Jesus doing? Why did he say we must give to Caesar what is Caesar’s? How is he going to rally the people behind him? How is he going to lead us to victory if he acknowledges that the Roman occupation of Israel is legitimate?”
“Simon, Simon,” Judas said. “I told you yesterday, I don’t know. I truly don’t know. You and I have been with Jesus day-in and day-out for almost three years. And as we’ve discussed quite often—sometimes to the point of you wanting to strike me—my views about Jesus’ mission are very different than your views. I’ve never thought he had any plans to drive the Romans out of Israel.”
On hearing this Jerry nodded his head in agreement. Mordecai noticed and gave Jerry an angry scowl.
“Well, what is his mission then, if you’re so smart?” Simon growled.
“I wish I knew!” Judas exclaimed as he wrung his hands. “I thought I understood. I thought Jesus was here to bring healing to our shattered nation. Emotional healing. Spiritual healing. Physical healing. You saw the miracles, Simon. You saw those cripples walk, those blind men see, those lepers completely cured. You saw those thousands of people feast on a few loaves of bread. You saw him walk on water. Jesus has been given divine power from on high. I thought he was going to use those powers to bring peace and prosperity to our land; peace and prosperity despite the Romans. I thought he was going to show us how to be happy and content and full of life, even as the Roman army occupies our nation. I thought he was going to give us freedom in our hearts and our minds and our souls.”
“Oh that’s nonsense!” Simon yelled. “You are a fool! There is no freedom as long as Romans take our property, rape our daughters, throw us in prison without charge, and terrorize our villages. The only useful thing Jesus can do is employ his divine powers to drive the Roman army out of our land. How can you possibly think we can be ‘free’ while still under the yoke of Rome?”
Judas took a deep breath and hung his head. He said quietly, “I no longer think that’s possible anymore. I am indeed a fool, Simon. I thought Jesus would teach our nation how to have inner peace despite all our hardships. But now I know that is not his plan.”
“What IS his plan?” Mordecai asked.
“Jesus’ plan is simple,” Judas said matter-of-factly. “Jesus plans to die.”
Simon and Mordecai looked at each other in confusion. Jerry stared at Judas with fascination.
“Well, um, all good Jews are willing to die, if need be, to save our nation and further God’s kingdom,” Simon said. “Is that what you mean?”
“No,” Judas said. “Of course all Jews must be ready to give up their lives for Israel and for God. But Jesus WANTS to die. And soon. He’s planning it right now. He has become so deluded, he somehow thinks his death will do something wonderful for our nation.”
“Wonderful?” Simon said angrily. “The only way someone’s death can be wonderful is if he kills four or five Romans in the process. Is that what Jesus is planning?”
“Hardly,” Judas laughed. “He has no interest in military things. I was correct early on when I realized this. You have never accepted this fact about Jesus, Simon. When he said, ‘Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,’ you were deaf. When he said, ‘Turn the other cheek,’ You only heard what you wanted to hear. There will be no revolt against Rome. At least no revolt led by Jesus.”
“Raca!” Simon swore as he slapped his hand against the wall in frustration. “So, I’ve wasted three years of my life following that man?! You’re saying he will not use his amazing powers to free our nation?!”
“Simon, he will not use his powers even to free himself,” Judas said. “He wants to die. He thinks he is the ‘lamb of God.’ He thinks he is the true Passover sacrifice. He wants his own blood to be spilled as some sort of sacrifice.”
As Simon and Mordecai paced around the room, muttering to each other, Jerry watched Judas. Jerry’s mind raced as he tried to piece together fragments of information he was taught long ago about the Gospels.
When Simon and Mordecai began speaking to each other in a far corner of the room, Jerry leaned toward Judas and quietly said, “Did he really walk on water?”
Judas smiled. “Oh yes,” he answered. “He’s done many other miraculous things.”
Jerry nodded thoughtfully. Then he said, “By the way, I think you’re right. What you’re saying about Jesus sounds kind of right.”
Judas smiled weakly at Jerry. “Yes, I’m sure that’s what Jesus is planning to do.” He took a deep breath then added, “So that’s why I have to stop him.”
Jerry mouth hung open. “Oh wait,” he stammered. “No, don’t do it.”
“Do what?” Judas asked.
“Don’t betray him,” Jerry said.
“Betray him?” Judas said with a laugh. “I’d never betray him. I love him. I want to save him. Save him from himself.”
Simon and Mordecai walked back to the middle of the room. “This meeting is a waste of time,” Simon said. “Nothing you say makes sense, Iscariot. I have to find out what Jesus is really planning to do.”
“Well, if you don’t believe me,” Judas said, “ask him yourself. Tomorrow night is the Passover. You can ask him when we all gather at sundown.” Then Judas added, “I have to leave now, anyway.”
“Where are you going?” Simon asked. “To buy supplies for the Passover meal?”
“Uh, yes,” Judas said while glancing sideways to avoid eye contact.
“C’mon, let’s go meet up with some of the others and try to figure out our next move,” Simon said to Mordecai and Jerry.
As the three men walked through the doorway and into the now sunny alleyway, Jerry turned back and said to Judas, “Don’t do it.”
“Do what?” Judas asked again.
“Don’t meet with…” Jerry paused, his brain struggling to find the right words. “…with the High Priest.”
Judas’ eyes bulged wide in surprise. Absolutely no one else knew of Judas’ scheduled meeting later that day with the supreme religious leader of Israel. Jerry’s eyes also expressed surprise. How did I come up with “High Priest”? he asked himself, amazed that a tiny fragment of information from a distant 7th grade catechism class had emerged from the depths of his brain.
Simon and Mordecai walked up the alleyway, and Jerry started to follow. As Jerry walked, he looked over his shoulder and stared at Judas, who was standing in the doorway returning the stare. As they continued to look into each other’s eyes, both men felt waves of anxiety well up inside.
As Mordecai and Simon continued to plot the overthrow of the hated Roman occupiers, expecting Jesus of Nazareth to be their inspirational leader, Jerry wracked his brain to remember the details he was taught about Jesus in the catechism classes of his youth. I wish I had gone to church with Brenda once in a while, he thought to himself, frustrated that he had given the topic absolutely no thought in a least 20 years. But Jerry had a good excuse for not giving Jesus any thought for such a long time: he truly believed it was all fairy tales. Now that he was thrust into the middle of these events by some inexplicable cosmic force, the idea that it was all fairy tales seemed quite foolish. He was seeing the various incidents unfold right before his own eyes. Other than knowing that Jesus would be crucified on Friday, however, Jerry was vague about any other particulars.
For at least the hundredth time in the last three days Jerry reached for his right hip. Then he paused and shook his head with a frustrated grin. Oh yeah, he thought, I can’t do a Google search about the details of Holy Week because I don’t have an iPhone anymore. And even if I did, the Internet won’t exist for another 2,000 years.
The three men came to a doorway at the end of an especially narrow alley. Simon gave three quick raps on the door and waited impatiently while the door was unbolted from within. When the door started to swing open slowly, Simon and Mordecai pushed it forcefully, and quickly entered the building. Jerry followed more cautiously. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Then he saw that it was Judas the Iscariot who had let them in. This was the meeting the men had planned the previous day while in the Temple courtyard. Jerry thought to himself, Hey, I also know something about Judas. He betrays Jesus…I think.
“I wasn’t sure if you would still be here,” Simon said to Judas with a sneer.
“Where else would I be?” Judas replied.
“I fully expected that you’d flee Jerusalem in fear and return to your hometown,” Simon answered. Mordecai looked at Simon and then looked toward Judas and vigorously nodded his head in agreement.
Judas shrugged his shoulders and offered a crooked smile. Apparently being accused of cowardice was a common occurrence, one to which Judas had grown accustomed.
Simon got right down to business. “OK,” he said, “we’re alone. There are no scary Pharisees or scribes around. So, Judas, my friend, what exactly is Jesus doing? Why did he say we must give to Caesar what is Caesar’s? How is he going to rally the people behind him? How is he going to lead us to victory if he acknowledges that the Roman occupation of Israel is legitimate?”
“Simon, Simon,” Judas said. “I told you yesterday, I don’t know. I truly don’t know. You and I have been with Jesus day-in and day-out for almost three years. And as we’ve discussed quite often—sometimes to the point of you wanting to strike me—my views about Jesus’ mission are very different than your views. I’ve never thought he had any plans to drive the Romans out of Israel.”
On hearing this Jerry nodded his head in agreement. Mordecai noticed and gave Jerry an angry scowl.
“Well, what is his mission then, if you’re so smart?” Simon growled.
“I wish I knew!” Judas exclaimed as he wrung his hands. “I thought I understood. I thought Jesus was here to bring healing to our shattered nation. Emotional healing. Spiritual healing. Physical healing. You saw the miracles, Simon. You saw those cripples walk, those blind men see, those lepers completely cured. You saw those thousands of people feast on a few loaves of bread. You saw him walk on water. Jesus has been given divine power from on high. I thought he was going to use those powers to bring peace and prosperity to our land; peace and prosperity despite the Romans. I thought he was going to show us how to be happy and content and full of life, even as the Roman army occupies our nation. I thought he was going to give us freedom in our hearts and our minds and our souls.”
“Oh that’s nonsense!” Simon yelled. “You are a fool! There is no freedom as long as Romans take our property, rape our daughters, throw us in prison without charge, and terrorize our villages. The only useful thing Jesus can do is employ his divine powers to drive the Roman army out of our land. How can you possibly think we can be ‘free’ while still under the yoke of Rome?”
Judas took a deep breath and hung his head. He said quietly, “I no longer think that’s possible anymore. I am indeed a fool, Simon. I thought Jesus would teach our nation how to have inner peace despite all our hardships. But now I know that is not his plan.”
“What IS his plan?” Mordecai asked.
“Jesus’ plan is simple,” Judas said matter-of-factly. “Jesus plans to die.”
Simon and Mordecai looked at each other in confusion. Jerry stared at Judas with fascination.
“Well, um, all good Jews are willing to die, if need be, to save our nation and further God’s kingdom,” Simon said. “Is that what you mean?”
“No,” Judas said. “Of course all Jews must be ready to give up their lives for Israel and for God. But Jesus WANTS to die. And soon. He’s planning it right now. He has become so deluded, he somehow thinks his death will do something wonderful for our nation.”
“Wonderful?” Simon said angrily. “The only way someone’s death can be wonderful is if he kills four or five Romans in the process. Is that what Jesus is planning?”
“Hardly,” Judas laughed. “He has no interest in military things. I was correct early on when I realized this. You have never accepted this fact about Jesus, Simon. When he said, ‘Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,’ you were deaf. When he said, ‘Turn the other cheek,’ You only heard what you wanted to hear. There will be no revolt against Rome. At least no revolt led by Jesus.”
“Raca!” Simon swore as he slapped his hand against the wall in frustration. “So, I’ve wasted three years of my life following that man?! You’re saying he will not use his amazing powers to free our nation?!”
“Simon, he will not use his powers even to free himself,” Judas said. “He wants to die. He thinks he is the ‘lamb of God.’ He thinks he is the true Passover sacrifice. He wants his own blood to be spilled as some sort of sacrifice.”
As Simon and Mordecai paced around the room, muttering to each other, Jerry watched Judas. Jerry’s mind raced as he tried to piece together fragments of information he was taught long ago about the Gospels.
When Simon and Mordecai began speaking to each other in a far corner of the room, Jerry leaned toward Judas and quietly said, “Did he really walk on water?”
Judas smiled. “Oh yes,” he answered. “He’s done many other miraculous things.”
Jerry nodded thoughtfully. Then he said, “By the way, I think you’re right. What you’re saying about Jesus sounds kind of right.”
Judas smiled weakly at Jerry. “Yes, I’m sure that’s what Jesus is planning to do.” He took a deep breath then added, “So that’s why I have to stop him.”
Jerry mouth hung open. “Oh wait,” he stammered. “No, don’t do it.”
“Do what?” Judas asked.
“Don’t betray him,” Jerry said.
“Betray him?” Judas said with a laugh. “I’d never betray him. I love him. I want to save him. Save him from himself.”
Simon and Mordecai walked back to the middle of the room. “This meeting is a waste of time,” Simon said. “Nothing you say makes sense, Iscariot. I have to find out what Jesus is really planning to do.”
“Well, if you don’t believe me,” Judas said, “ask him yourself. Tomorrow night is the Passover. You can ask him when we all gather at sundown.” Then Judas added, “I have to leave now, anyway.”
“Where are you going?” Simon asked. “To buy supplies for the Passover meal?”
“Uh, yes,” Judas said while glancing sideways to avoid eye contact.
“C’mon, let’s go meet up with some of the others and try to figure out our next move,” Simon said to Mordecai and Jerry.
As the three men walked through the doorway and into the now sunny alleyway, Jerry turned back and said to Judas, “Don’t do it.”
“Do what?” Judas asked again.
“Don’t meet with…” Jerry paused, his brain struggling to find the right words. “…with the High Priest.”
Judas’ eyes bulged wide in surprise. Absolutely no one else knew of Judas’ scheduled meeting later that day with the supreme religious leader of Israel. Jerry’s eyes also expressed surprise. How did I come up with “High Priest”? he asked himself, amazed that a tiny fragment of information from a distant 7th grade catechism class had emerged from the depths of his brain.
Simon and Mordecai walked up the alleyway, and Jerry started to follow. As Jerry walked, he looked over his shoulder and stared at Judas, who was standing in the doorway returning the stare. As they continued to look into each other’s eyes, both men felt waves of anxiety well up inside.
To be continued.....
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